Lust's Consequences
by Greenangelwings
Summary: UNFINISHED STORY.
1. Prologue

AUTHORS NOTE: _This is femslash Hermione/Minerva and also a little Hermione/Ron._

_It's AU. In this story, Voldemort was defeated just after the group all turned 16, Dumbledore is still dead, and McGonagall is Headmistress and I'm sure you'll notice __other changes too. Despite this, I hope you enjoy the ride as the plot unfolds.  
_

...

* * *

...

Perhaps it was from the joy of finally defeating, You-Know-Who, the one who had persecuted her friends for so long, and had murdered her family. Maybe it been the shock of her parents' death; or the depression she felt after. Maybe it was just because she wanted to be close to something.

Maybe it was just because of the party; with all that frivolity and happiness, the urge to let go and let loose was too tempting to ignore; the desire to forget the all rules, all the consequences—to just deal with the pain later.

Or it could have been the whiskey.

She groaned and covered her eyes as the light from the morning sun filtered through the window and hit her.

She was fairly certain it had been the whiskey…

Well, whatever the reason behind last night, there she was; slowly sitting up in a disgustingly male bed, naked and cold under a white sheet. A slumbering Harry lay at one side of her, and a passed out Ron on the other, both noticeably exhausted and just as naked as she was.

Hermione Granger stood on wobbly, weak legs as she looked for her clothes. She could barely walk, and she hurt. She felt crusted blood and… _other_ fluid on her thighs

Merlin, how long had they gone? How many times had she been slammed into?

She shuddered briefly, glancing over at the two sleeping boys.

…and by who?

After another minute she managed to locate most of her clothes, though her underwear was nowhere in sight. She wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing—she certainly didn't want to wear them after last night.

As she lifted her clothes into her hands, she looked over to the other bed where a few other students were, and she made a grimace of disgust. The smell was positively nauseating—whiskey mixed with the musk of sex, all tangled up with the overwhelmingly noticeable smell of teenage boys and… oh god, was that vomit?

She narrowly missed a passed out seventh year as she made her way to a large pile of clothes where her socks laid, quite oddly, on top.

'_I'm never touching firewhisky EVER again.'_

Just as she was looking for her last article of clothing—her left shoe, the door to the dormitory swung open and Hermione snapped her head about to face the noise, looking quite like a deer caught in headlights.

...

* * *

_And thus the story begins.  
_


	2. Chapter 1

AUTHORS NOTE: _This is femslash Hermione/Minerva and also a little Hermione/Ron._

_A little AU, you are warned. In this story, Voldemort was defeated just after the group all turned 16, Dumbledore is still dead, and McGonagall is Headmistress and I'm sure you'll notice __other changes too. _

* * *

It had been three weeks after the party, three weeks after Hermione had been caught, along with several other female students, in the Boys dormitory, by none other than Madam Pomfrey. Apparently, someone had called for a nurse and failed to wake all the slumbering rule breakers. After lectured long and hard by McGonagall they all received three (which would have been more if some of the teachers hadn't _joined_in the student's shameful behavior) months of detention.

Had it been her imagination, or when the Scottish Professor looked at her, with those emerald orbs, they showed hurt—pain even? She must still be in mourning for those lost in the war, but then again, she hadn't really moved her eyes away from careless body. Maybe it was just shock of seeing her prized pupil in such a state. She hated bringing her beloved Professor such disgrace. She positively hated it!

But, here she was, standing in the library sorting books for her detention time. For a while she wondered why she had been the one in the library for punishment, when she adored it, and everyone else had been put into jobs they absolutely hated. But figured she should simply count her blessings, and placed another book on the shelf.

After a few minutes, she heard the clicking of heels, and looked over her shoulder towards the sound. Curiosity getting the better of her, she peered around one of the tall shelves, and watched as a quite annoyed Professor McGonagall breezed into the library and walked up to Madam Pince, the librarian. They spoke in hushed tones, and Hermione strained to hear them.

"…She should… enjoys too much…"

"Staying here… better …"

"Slut… punishment…" Hermione couldn't hear anymore than that, or maybe she hadn't wanted to, but either way she didn't get the chance to leave nor eavesdrop more, for one of the books slipped from her hand and crashed onto the ground. The two women to snapped at attention towards her, and she swallowed hard, suddenly nervous at the hard stares of the equally scary women.

"Be careful with those books, you foolish girl!" snapped Madam Pince.

"Sorry," Hermione mumbled. She retrieved the book from the floor then turned back around the book shelves to place them in their proper places. The voices of the older witches raised and lowered as their verbal war continued, finally ending when the sounds of frustrated heels echoed off the walls, making the room seem empty.

Another two weeks past, and Hermione began to feel very light spirited, smiling like a fool all the time and even having a bit of a bounce in her step. She even felt like singing she was so delighted—so she did. All the way down to her classes, and in the library when Madam Pince had left she would hum a lovely little ditty—a lullaby. Of course people would stare at her oddly, or say things like "Never knew the know it all could sing," but she paid no mind to them, as usual, and continued serving her duties as both Head Girl and in her punishment with a light heart and a joyful smile.

Of course, that is until she noticed she wasn't having her normal period. She wondered what might be causing this, and not willing to go to the doctor just yet, researched it. She went over all the books, and came to a few horrifyingly complicated medical results. She went over them one by one, every so often a simple, much more relevant idea popped into her head.

_'Oh it can't be **that**, it's probably from stress is all.'_ Hermione thought to herself when another week went by, and still she had yet to menstruate. She was growing worried, and started to cast parasite-stopping charms on herself, to see if it would help any. Although it gave her cramps, it did not make her bleed.

Finally, after another week she talked Ginny into getting her a pregnancy test when they left for Hogsmeade. After much secrecy, dodging questions from teachers and much hell from her Brothers, the redhead managed to get the test back to Hermione before her next class. The two faked sick in order to hide out in the girl's bathroom.

Hermione paced around the room, her nerves becoming frayed as the little strip continued to test. Ginny had offered to speed up the process, but Hermione did not want any, _any_ chance for the readings to be wrong. The test beeped, the girl's breath hitched in unison. They sat there, still as death for a moment, as if pondering if they should actually look. Hermione stood on weak legs and looked at the test…

* * *

AUTHORS NOTE: _Please review, not posting the rest until you do! So Click that blue button!_


	3. Chapter 2

AUTHORS NOTE:

**stsgirlie, Marlicat, hermin22, mmadjane**: _Thank you for the reviews :D_

**Fan-Rei:**_ As I said before I am still trying to get a feel for the characters. Originally this was meant to be a twoshot, but while writing I ended up with more chapters which will be posted. The point of the views of the characters will change, since this is only chapter two. And also, since this is generally about Hermione I don't want to clutter it up too much with other views. And the reason for the lack of talking between the two boys-and McGonagall will obviously be explained later. Thank you for your review, hope you read more chapters later._

* * *

…it was negative and both Gryffindors let out a huge sigh of relief.

"Well, if it's not that, what is it?" Ginny frowned at her friend, who understandably looked a mixture of relieved and worried.

"I don't know… maybe it's just stress, like I thought before."

"Maybe you should tell Madam Pomfrey."

"It's probably nothing, Ginny." Hermione said, her usual sense of fact and logic clouded by denial. "Let's just head to our next class before we get caught in here." And so the two friends never mentioned to their teachers why they had been late to class, and settled in for the long day ahead. During Potions, Harry continued to try to get Hermione's attention, but the young witch still didn't feel comfortable speaking with him. God, how embarrassing, to sleep with your best friend—correction—two best friends!

But as they left for the corridor, Harry walked up to Hermione, who shrank back uncharacteristically.

"Hermione, please, I just want to talk." Harry pleaded with his friend, who thought for a moment, glancing at the surrounding students. With a sigh, she took his hand and led him off towards the common room. The Fat Lady gave a disapproving glace at the two, but opened when Hermione mumbled the password. Hermione stalked to a coach and sat down, drawing her legs to her chest and wrapping her arms about them. Harry awkwardly sat down across from Hermione, and sighed. "Listen… about the party…"

"It's fine." Hermione mumbled. "After all, I was right along with it."

"You were drunker then a dwarf."

"That's unbelievably raciest comment, Harry!" Hermione barked, her usual activist side coming up to the surface in what seemed like forever, and Harry couldn't help but smile and chuckle a bit. "And it's _not_ funny!"

"Sorry, sorry," Harry shook his head, "it's just, you sound like your old self." Hermione's gaze softened and she rested her chin on her knees. "I know the war changed everyone, and the party—obviously we all lost our senses for a bit. I want to make sure we don't drift away because of it, you're one of my best friends, Hermione you have to know you mean a lot to me."

"I know, Harry. It's just a little… awkward right now." Hermione said, and Harry agreed. "I mean—I can't believe I actually slept with you and Ron! It was like a nightmare—no offence—but… you know." she moved her hand, a blush forming on her cheeks, and tears in her eyes. "I just… You two already had sex before that night, and I didn't." Harry nodded shamefully, and listened as Hermione continued. "I-I wanted my first time to be special and let's face it—three drunk schoolmates in the boys dorm wasn't at all special."

Harry nodded again, and looked down at the floor, unsure of what to say. Hermione spoke up, and he raised his head.

"I still want to be friends… I just need a little more time, okay?"

"Sure, Hermione," Harry said. "I'm…"

"Don't apologize, it wasn't your fault." Hermione said with a small sob. "It was mine for getting wasted off my arse in the first place." Harry moved over to his friend and put an arm around her shoulder as she cried. When Ron and Ginny came back, despite the awkwardness and things left unsaid, immediately came to her side as she cried.

None of them made it to the rest of their classes that day.

The hours passed, day turned into night, and Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey walked the halls, each carrying a box of healing potions brought up from just being made. Minerva McGonagall's face had not changed once in quite a few weeks, obviously still fuming over what careless, inappropriate scandal had taken place within her _own_ house. But, that's not what was on Poppy Pomfrey's mind as they walked. It was on a certain promising young brown haired witch.

"Pardon me, Minerva, but have you noticed Miss Granger acting a bit… peculiar lately?" Poppy asked, looking over at her colleague and friend as they came closer and closer to the hospital wing.

The sound of her name made Minerva's heart leap and ached at the same time, oh where had she gone wrong? Such a promising young woman, Hermione was, only to be snatched from her innocence by some drunken idiots; and the worst was that she continued to spend time with said idiots, which made no troubles in making Minerva extremely testy with Potter and Weasley.

Minerva's heart sank to the bottom of her stomach, and maybe even her feet, her beloved student had deserved a better first time—a slow, romantic, meaningful, love filled one. Not a fast, heartless, meaningless tumble of sheets and early morning regrets.

"Minerva?"

"What? Oh, I'm sorry, Poppy. What did you say?"

"I was saying, Miss Granger has been checking out a long list of medical books and healing enchantments, and was asking me a long spot of questions."

"What's so peculiar about that, you know how Miss Granger is, always wanting to learn this or that." Minerva said. Poppy frowned and Minerva felt worry creep up into her as she saw the serious expression on the School Nurse's face.

"Yes, but she never seemed so worried about asking questions before. And she never made them so specific about a single reason." Poppy said as she placed the box she had carried on one of the tables in the Hospital Wing. Minerva followed suit, and felt a lump rise in her throat at the question she was about to ask.

"And what reason is that?" Minerva said in a voice stronger then she felt. But, surely it couldn't be that bad, could it?

"The absence of a menstrual cycle," Poppy said softly, and Minerva dropped the potion she had lifted from the box.

Poppy couldn't help but pity her friend, for the woman looked as if she had just been slapped in the face, then kicked in the gut.

* * *

AUTHORS NOTE:_ YAY! More to come. _


	4. Chapter 3

The results of the pregnancy test managed to put Hermione's mind to ease, and she started to mull over what she was going to do after Hogwarts. Health issues could wait until later; it wasn't affecting her in any serious way, and to be honest if she never had children as the medical books warned she would be all but ecstatic.

Of course, she knew that realistically speaking, she needed to stay on top of it, but obviously this was simply some stress related problem, and she would go see Poppy about it when she found some free time. Which, with the way things were going with missed classes, make-up tests, and detentions—not to even take into account the usual homework—would probably be after graduation.

As she walked towards the library, she continued to think what her best career option would be, and what should she go on to. Maybe she would do some research on it today. After all, she had the library to herself for a few hours and technically working with books _was_ her detention. She couldn't help but smile inwardly, Oh how she adored having library duty as punishment!

She walked into the library, feeling happy and curious of the world beyond Hogwarts, and stopped short after walking past three shelves of books, a small change had been made in plans.

"Ron, what are you doing in here?" She asked. Ron stood up and handed her a bewitched, shimmering flower. It was golden with little specks of emerald and brown, the stem slender and leaf's edges made of points. It was beautiful. That is, until the glamour charm started to wear off and the thing looked positively sick, probably from one too many tries of casting the spell. She looked at it then to the red haired boy and forced a little smile. Ever since their little "escapade," and "talk," Ron had continuously attempted to win her heart, surely they had to have had something if they had slept with the other. But the more she pondered her actions, her reactions, and their friendship, she realized she didn't feel anything towards Ron that could be considered romantic, plus she didn't want their friendship to chance. And try as she might not to, the idea that she had slept with him made her stomach turn.

"They're for you." He said.

"Oh, Ron," she said, trying to find the right, none suggestive words. She took the fast fading enchanted flower and looked at the poor thing oddly. "They look… lovely."

_Too suggestive,_ Hermione thought immediately after saying it, and gave up.

"I tried to make it look like those flowers you said you liked… but it didn't work out so well." He said, mumbling under his breath.

"How many times did you cast the…"

"Seventeen,"

Hermione inwardly winced. _No wonder it looks so sick_, she thought. _It must have been severely stressed._ She smiled a little, and touched his hand. No matter what had happened between them, she still valued his friendship and thought his attempts annoying, but endearing.

"I like them." Hermione lied. Ron knew this was the closest he would get… this time, so he shrugged coolly and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"Yeah—well—it's nothing."

Hermione bit her lip. She didn't enjoy hurting Ron's feelings, but she couldn't very well tell him such a _big_ lie and agree to date him. She stepped close to him, and tilted her head up to kiss his cheek in a way of thanks. After all, he did go through the trouble of getting her a gift. When her lips met freckled skin it turned even redder, and he murmured in pleasure.

"_Ahem!" _a loud interruption caused them to break apart. There stood Professor McGonagall, looking positively furious at the innocent kiss. "I do hope I wasn't… _interrupting_ anything." she said with a scowl. Ron fumbled with some books.

"N-no, just—books—homework—Potions—" Ron stammered a thousand excuses in one breath.

"I recall you have detention with Mr. Filch, Mister Weasley." she practically hissed his name as if it were a curse. His body didn't show it, but his eyes told the whole tale of his fear. He said a quick goodbye to Hermione, then he zoomed out the libraries doors and down the halls. It seemed he had been suffering enough of McGonagall's wrath, and he didn't care to face more.

Professor McGonagall stared at the library door with hatred, looking at where Ron had last been, her mouth twisted in a thin frown, and her eyes narrowed to the point her eyes seemed like slits. Hermione shuddered slightly, but not from fear, oh no, that expression the older witch held—gods know she didn't understand why—caused shivers of excitement to run down her spine. She knew she should probably be calm, or even scared, but she couldn't help it! That look just… well, quite frankly it turned her on to the point of overheating. She messed with the collar of her robe, speaking of overheating…

McGonagall was looking at her now, with a fiery emotion filling her emerald eyes. Hermione tried not to meet her eyes, she couldn't risk showing her mentor what exactly she was making her feel at this point, and she fidgeted a little, waiting for Professor McGonagall to speak. When no sound was made for ten minutes, she decided to go on with her job and leave the Scottish woman to her silence.

Another thirty minutes passed before Madam Pince walked in, and she and McGonagall began to converse once again. This time, Hermione was in too good a mood to eavesdrop, and hummed under her breath a lullaby. Every now and then, she would hear their voices stop, and even though she had her back to them, she felt two pairs of eyes burning into her. Still, she sorted discarded books into their proper sections while her song became more and more audible.

Hermione's song finished, and she sighed happily. Oh, what a beautiful day! She sashayed over to the window and gazed out into the clear blue sky and green, green grass longingly. After a moment, or maybe two, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned, and looked up at the face of her Professor. "Professor McGonagall," she said dumbly, as if she had forgotten who was there.

"Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall said. Her eyes became clouded and nearly unreadable as they rested on the young Hermione, and her mouth thinned into a frown. "Will you follow me, please? I wish to speak with you."

Hermione nodded, though confused she put the books down and followed Professor McGonagall out of the library, and attempted not to listen to the mumbles and grumbles of Hogwarts librarian. They walked down the corridors, past portraits whispering and murmuring to each other, and students doing much the same thing.

...

They walked for a while, and finally came to the wood doors of Professor McGonagall's office. Upon entering the room Minerva did not speak, simply motioned for Hermione to sit in a wooden chair. Hermione sat and looked up at her Professor in wonder, confusion and a bit of fear of what would be asked. Minerva rested against her desk, and looked over her student. The last time she had been in this room was…

She stiffened and forced herself not to think of it. Not to think of the disappointment and shame she felt knowing Hermione had been in this group of degenerates. Or the unimaginable pain of seeing the ones who had stolen her innocence, or the hatred of the situation or jealousy of not being able to have been the one to touch her, although wrong the idea had been. She knew she liked her student a little more than a Professor or friend should, but she didn't realize how hopelessly in love she had been with this young woman—and still was—until then.

But she couldn't let herself dwell on this now, she had to focus. Something was horribly wrong with her Hermione.

_No! Not mine, just Hermione. _She corrected her thoughts and looked at her student, who looked right back up at her expectantly.

"You've been acting rather strange, Hermione. I was wondering… how you were handling things?" She asked, figuring that was the best way to open the discussion.

"Handling things?"

"Your family…" She couldn't continue the sentence, and her face showed the guilt she felt for bringing the subject up.

She watched, and it was like Hermione suddenly remembered with a small jolt that little fact of her new life. That fact that caused her shoulders slump and her heart to grow heavy. After graduation, and even now, she no longer _had_ family. No Mummy or Daddy, just her three friends Ron, Harry and Ginny. She suddenly looked worse then she had been during those few weeks—even in years—ever—and her head lowered. At Hermione's reaction, she continued.

"I don't expect you to believe me when I say I know what you're going through." And Hermione shook her head, a bitter smile gracing her face.

_More_ _like shaming it, really_, Minerva thought with a small frown. _You look so fetching when you smile, Hermione._

"I don't believe you will think I could possibly understand. That you're alone in the world, that no one will ever know that horrible feeling in your chest, that just feels like a piece of you is already dead, and will never come back." She spoke with meaning, and her hand absently went to her chest. Hermione's head seemed to raise a little, and Minerva sighed. "But I do, I do, Hermione. I felt the exact same way after my family had been killed during the war with Grindelwald." and then Hermione looked up at her with sadness and surprise.

"Oh…" Hermione murmured sadly, "I'm sorry… I didn't…"

"It's quite alright, I just mean to say, I'm here if you need someone to talk to. Both as a mentor and as a friend," she said, resisting the temptation of reaching out and brushing a stray lock of brown hair behind her ear. Hermione sadly smiled, and she couldn't help but feel her heart melt just a little.

"Will it ever go away?" Hermione asked, with a voice both beautiful and saddening.

"Not entirely, no." she said, and Hermione looked like she had lost a silent battle and lowered her head. Minerva tilted her chin up. "You'll always carry it with you, but the pain will grow faint, and you'll think of happier moments with them. You must remember, Hermione, that even though they don't live on in portraits or ghosts, they live will on in your heart and memories."

Hermione smiled. Obviously the words had done their job at bringing a little closer to her beloved student.

"Thank you Professor."

"We're in private, you may call me Minerva."

"Thank you, Minerva." Hermione spoke softly, was it Minerva's imagination, or did the younger witch's eyes flutter for a brief moment, like she was savoring something? "I just haven't been feeling well; I think it's just from… stress." Hermione looked down at her hands. "I'm sorry I've let my studies slip, I'll do my best to make up for it." Minerva's eyes softened, ever so slightly and she put a hand on her protégé's shoulder.

"Hermione, I'm worried about you—we're all worried about you. You've done some… rather drastic things in the past few months. You're missing classes, dazing off into space. And Madam Pomfrey tells me you've been asking questions about—"

"It's nothing," Hermione quickly interjected. "I've just been having a few problems and I was too embarrassed to say it was me." At the look on Minerva's disappointed face she continued, "But, I've been meaning to tell her about it."

"You should have told me." Minerva's voice was soft and gentle, her Professor persona gone as words full of underlying hurt and worriment escaped her lips. "Your health is very important to m—us," she hoped she had covered up her almost-slip. "I think it wise for you to have a check-up." Hermione frowned at the look in her friend's eyes.

"I'm sorry, I guess… everything that's happened has made me careless—I promise to take better care of myself." Hermione placed her hand over Minerva's slender, exotic one, and she tried to hide how the feeling of skin on her own caused her heart to leap and beat fast.

With all that said, Minerva and Hermione walked out of the office and to the Hospital wing, where Madam Pomfrey walked up to the two women. Professor McGonagall turned and Hermione softly, but oddly cheerfully explained everything. Madam Pomfrey nodded.

"I see, well, I hope you don't take your health in your own hands again, dear." Pomfrey said, "It's a very foolish, not to mention dangerous thing to do."

"Yes Madam, I'm sorry for being so childish, it won't happen again." Hermione said with a small shy smile.

"Well, at least you got some sense and came here, unlike some people who get sick and refuse to get any treatment at all." she gave McGonagall a look, and smirked when the older witch glared back, as if to say _'leave me out of this.'_ "Now then, let's get started. Professor McGonagall, if you'll excuse us." she shooed the Professor out of the room.

...

A few hours passed, and although Minerva was supposed to have been teaching a class, she couldn't keep her mind focused, a first for her, and the class passed in a blur. The students left in a cloud of murmurs, all wondering what had gotten into the usually strict, all seeing teacher who ruined most of their fun.

As soon as she could, Minerva raced down the corridors at a fast walk, using the very last inch of her willpower to not go off at a dead run. When she reached the hospital Wing doors, she didn't wait for Poppy to open them; instead, she asserted her right as Headmistress and barged in, and made a beeline right up to Hermione's bed.

Minerva was about to speak, but noticed that the occupant of the bed was fast asleep, dressed in white hospital pajama's with a small smile on her slumbering face. Her heart melted, and she smiled for the first time in months. Without thinking of where she was, or who she was with, Minerva reached out a gentle hand and caressed the sleeping Hermione's cheek.

"Minerva?" The older witch's hand ripped back from the warm cheek as if it was fire.

"How is she?" Minerva asked, turning ever so slightly, but not once taking her eyes off of Hermione. Poppy sighed and gently took Minerva by the shoulders and softly pull her away from Hermione. Minerva looked over at the nurse who held her with confusion. "Poppy?"

"Sit down, Minerva."

"No, I'll stand, thank you." Minerva said calmly, shrugging out of the grip and turning to Poppy. "I'm a grown woman, I can handle myself."

"Sit down, now." Poppy said with a hard tone. Minerva sat down reluctantly, and with a heated gaze upturned onto Pomfrey's face. "I haven't told her yet, she's been sleeping for the past two hours. She must be exhausted, and in her condition I'm surprised she's been able to go how she has this long."

"What condition?" Minerva asked, getting more annoyed by the minute, also more worried, but never losing her neutral voice.

"She's pregnant." Poppy said and her voice had never been more deathly serious.

Minerva stared at her, dumbfounded, hurt, angry—so many things had stirred in her usually controlled heart by those two simple words. She felt a little lightheaded; no—no, she refused to faint. She was not some Muggle woman like in those movies, screaming and losing all control at this or that; she was a McGonagall. By God she was a McGonagall, she was a Gryffindor—and she would bloody well act like it!

"I see." Minerva spoke in her normal voice, strong and calm, her face losing any emotion other then the concern and shock of a mentor towards her student. That is all she would allow herself to feel, at least for now. "Do you know which boy is the father?"

"No, it's too early to tell." Poppy said, and walked to the opposite side of the bed, motioning for Minerva to follow, so she did. Once out of earshot, Poppy leaned close and said in a whisper, "I'm not sure how Miss Granger will react to the news or how she would like to continue." and although she used simple, base terms, Minerva understood. She didn't know if Hermione would want an abortion. At the thought sickening hope weaved its way into Minerva's heart, and she felt ashamed of herself for thinking such things.

"I understand." Minerva glanced back, and was more then a little startled when the patient in question was missing from her bed.

* * *

AUTHORS NOTE:_ YAY! More to come. _


	5. Chapter 4

AUTHORS NOTE:

_Also another all nighter written and rewritten, I can never seem to find time between my girl and my pen. Anyway, here you are.  
_

* * *

Hermione sleepily walked down the halls. She didn't know why, or how, or even when, but she felt unimaginably hungry.

She was sleepwalking, well, in a state of sleepwalking you could say. She wasn't really asleep, for she knew she was walking. She knew she had left the Hospital Wing. She knew it was probably wrong to be about after curfew, but her conscious mind was not awake enough to make her turn around, and as such her body merely did as it wished, a dangerous thing indeed.

She walked to the greenhouse, and pulled out her wand. She didn't recognize the spell she used, but the door opened soundlessly, and not one of the alarms laced in its walls went up. She stumbled in, and she fell onto one of the benches. She tilted her head up, and then let it fall to her chest. You may wonder, if she was hungry, why the bloody hell was she in the greenhouse. Well, quite frankly, she would have wondered herself if she could have thought.

But, a beetle crawled up her leg, and she picked it up.

_CRUNCH!_

She bit down into its shelled body, and didn't notice the vile taste. Her body, for whatever reason, thought she needed the proteins. Throughout the next twenty minutes, she had eaten three cups worth of mineral enriched dirt, thirty-two beetles, several plants and half of what could have been Mrs. Sprouts' lunch, or perhaps it was plant food.

She was still hungry, though not as much as before, and she left the greenhouse after closing and locking it. She aimlessly wandered for what could have been ages, or minutes, or seconds, she didn't know. Her feet moved with will of their own, down the hill to a familiar cabin. She slipped on a stone and tumbled. The slight racket of stones clanking against each other caused the Gatekeeper to look outside.

You could imagine his surprise at a dirt covered, slightly banged up Hermione dizzily trying to stand up.

"Hermione? What in blazes 're you doin' out 'n about?" Hagrid asked as the young witch finally stood and walked towards him, "You alright?" and Hermione fell into his arms, limp as gel and not a word of what she spoke remotely tangible. "Whoa, it's a'right, I gotcha, I gotcha, let's just get you inside, 'ere. Come on."

Hagrid half carried, half lead the disoriented Hermione to the big chair by the fire, obviously he wouldn't be able to get her to walk back. He went into his room and pulled out a huge quilt, seemingly made by hand, and put it around her shivering shoulders. Hermione looked up at him with glassy eyes, which blinked slowly as her body trembling violently.

"A'right, a'right, calm you'self down, Hermione, we'll have you warmed up in no time." He stroked the fire, and it crackled and roared at the newly added wood. The wild looking man sighed in relief when Hermione had stopped shaking and relaxed. He was just about to get his coat on and get the teachers when he noticed something at the edge of her mouth, and leaned down for a closer look. "'Mione, 'ave you been eatin'… beetles? Merlin, girl, what's gott'n into you?"

Hermione couldn't speak, and merely snuggled into the quilts. Her eyes closed and her dreams drifted back to her, blissfully unaware of where she was or what she had done. Hagrid shook his head slightly and looked worriedly at his guest, before retrieving his coat on and walking out of the hut.

...

Minerva raced along the corridors. Her wand lit the way so brightly it caused half of the portraits to wake up, not that she could care at this point, because her student was missing. She interrogated all the portraits who had the decency to wake up as a student passed them, and they had said that Miss Granger had been walking strangely, like she was sleep walking.

This was enough to unnerve Minerva. She'd had students who slept walk before, and it never ended well. One practically got himself killed by walking straight into the black lake. Another had started a fire in the kitchens, one cut off her finger after bumping into a suit of armor with a sharpened sword, and one almost fell off of the stairs when they decided to "change" during his slumberous walk.

The thought of the brown haired young woman hurting herself was enough to make her cringe and her heart drop in fear. How could she have moved so quickly? They had just turned their backs for a second! Just like that, poof! She was gone! Almost as if she had apparated. Minerva couldn't take time to be impressed by the subtlety of the escape, right now she needed to know her Hermione was safe—Merlin she didn't even care to correct her inappropriate thoughts she was so worried!

She had tried to stay calm, she really had, but either due to the lack of sleep, shock or just maybe because it was Hermione, she couldn't be the collected Professor, well, quite honestly, she had felt this way anytime a student went missing, but unlike all those other times, the worriment was ten fold, and it showed clearly on her face.

Minerva hurried out to the outsider halls of the castle. She looked around the courtyards and the entrance. It had been near an hour since Hermione went missing and all of the teachers and several of the ghosts were now up and looking.

_That is, except for one,_ Minerva realized and quickly hurried off to Hagrid's.

She was so busy looking around at her surroundings, incase Hermione had accidentally came down this way, that she didn't notice the Gateskeeper directly in her path, and didn't move in time to stop from crashing into him.

_Goodness, he's a big man,_ Minerva thought, while regaining her composure. _Good thing_, _otherwise we'd both be tumbling down the mountain._

"Hagrid, there you are. A student is missing, Miss—"

"Hermione," Hagrid cut in, which usually would have annoyed her, but right now she didn't care.

"Yes! Have you seen her?" Minerva asked, and by now two other teachers had come outside to look, Professor Sprout and Madam Pomfrey.

"Yea, she's down at me place, I was just 'bout to come 'n get ya. She looks an awful mess, you'd best come 'n have a look, Madam Pomfrey." Hagrid led Minerva and Poppy down to the hut, while Professor Sprout went back up to the castle to tell the others the student was found, and then to go to bed. "Oh, and uh, you're gonna find this strange but, er, I think she been eatin' bugs."

"_Bugs_?" Minerva asked, completely shocked, but relieved when she saw her secret love and student safe and sound, asleep by the fireplace. Poppy walked over to the sleeping Hermione. With a muttered spell two gloves appeared on her hands, and she opened the unconscious woman's mouth, and reached in with her fingers. "What are you doing?" and Minerva almost felt nauseous when the school nurse pulled out a half chewed beetle from Hermione's mouth. "Oh… _Merlin_… what's wrong with her?"

"It's not that surprising, actually." Poppy said, tossing the beetle back into the fire and checking Hermione's arms and legs for injuries. "It's rare, but not unheard of for pregnant women to eat things like plants or dirt or even bugs. Since she was sleepwalking, her body just decided to act on the urges."

"Yea, that's fine 'n all, but what's that got to do with Hermione?" Hagrid motioned to the star pupil of Hogwarts.

"She's pregnant. I would say that would be a good reason." Poppy said. Hagrid's eyes almost bulged out of his head, and he stammered, still unbelieving and shocked. After a few minutes of convincing him, he gave an awkward sigh.

"Oh dear," Hagrid murmured, his big shoulders slumping a little with his heavy sigh, "ah, poor thing."

...

Hermione shook and jumped, and scrambled away from the cold, damp cloth Poppy had used to gently wake her up.

"What—where—who—**_AH!_** What's happening, where…?" Hermione gasped, her eyes darting around the room at dizzying speed. "Hagrid's… what am I doing at Hagrid's?" but as she recognized the hut's walls she visibly relaxed and calmed down. She stiffened, and her tongue ran over her teeth, and she plucked the offending piece out of her mouth. The teacher's watched as her face turned from confused, to shocked, then to horror. "Is… is that a…?"

"Beetle leg," Poppy finished, forcing Hermione to sit before the poor girl fell over from disgust. Hermione started to breathe fast, gasping for air, and she shivered violently once again. Minerva immediately came over to her side. "Calm down. You were sleepwalking." But this did not consol Hermione, who clutched onto Minerva with a vice-like grip and the older witch wrapped her arms around her instinctively, and tried to calm her down. Poppy waited until Hermione had begun to breathe normally before explaining that she was eating rather… peculiar things because her body had demanded the nutrition, and when she slept walked she merely acted on her body's signals.

"But why? I've been eating like I've always eaten!" Hermione said, horrified and thoroughly disgusted she could be so… so primal. When Minerva and Poppy gave each other a concerned, unsure look, Hagrid piped in.

"Well, that little tike probably giv'n you a little kick to get you to eat more." Hagrid said. Minerva and Poppy fixed him with a glare as Hermione paled and her knuckles went white from gripping Minerva's robes so tightly. "What? Oh…" he then realized he had probably said too much. He cleared his throat awkwardly and murmured, "Probably shouldn't have told you that."

"What tike? What was he talking about?" Hermione asked Poppy with a wavering voice as they walked out of Hagrid's hut. Madam Pomfrey looked at Professor McGonagall, who looked back at her with an almost… hopeless expression. "What's going on?"

"Miss Granger," Madam Pomfrey began, "Why don't we wait until we're inside to discuss-"

"No, no! What was he talking about? I want to know!" Hermione demanded. All rational thought or action lost in fear and confusion. She attempted to free herself of McGonagall's grip, but the old witch would have none of it, she held onto the thrashing young witch with a power that would have envied the strongest of binding spells.

"Hermione Jean Granger, you will calm down this instant and act like the sensible, mature young woman you are!" Professor McGonagall said sternly.

Hermione was taken aback by the tone. The voice of her Professor lulled her mind away from the fear and confusion and snapped it back into logic and rationality. She nodded slightly. She felt foolish, and out of control with her emotions, and a little ashamed of herself for acting so childish. The rest of the way back to the Hospital Wing passed in silence, and she stayed close, causing the older woman to slowly, tentatively allow her more freedom in her movements, but not trusting her enough to let her completely go.

When they finally reached the Hospital Wing, McGonagall firmly, yet gently forced her to sit down in the bed she had so recently abandoned. The older witch left her hand on her shoulder, almost as if she still wasn't entirely sure if the bushy haired brunette would run off again. She frowned. It seemed that she had been acting out more then she had thought. She settled, and waited patiently for the Healer to speak. Madam Pomfrey eyed her carefully, as if she were judging how wild an animal was before attempting to handle it.

"After you went to sleep, I preformed a few tests," Madam Pomfrey began. "I found the reason for your missing menstrual cycle, Miss Granger, you're pregnant." Madam Pomfrey spoke clear and slow, and looked at her with a gaze of pity and calm. She felt her heart skip a beat, her head grow foggy. But no, no, she wouldn't loose her reason this time.

"I took a pregnancy test, and it was negative." She said. "I can't be pregnant."

"Those store bought tests are not always correct." Madam Pomfrey said. Her heart sank lower, how could this be happening to her? Stop, stop, she warned herself. You will not loose yourself again, just calm down.

"Did you cast any parasite-stopping charms on yourself?" Madam Pomfrey asked.

"Yes, I did." she sat up straight, but her eyes didn't lift from the spot of floor she had been staring at for the last minute.

"A normal parasite stopping charm is designed to kill and stop all foreign substances in the body from growing. It's an extremely complicated and—if preformed wrong—life threatening spell, that can trick the body into attacking itself instead of the parasites or infection. That's why only highly skilled Healers are allowed to perform it on patients. The one you used, I'm guessing, was a weak version of it, am I right?"

She nodded, and Madam Pomfrey continued.

"That's why your body felt the need to get all the nutrients it could—no matter from what or where. The Parasite charm, without proper instruction and casting can consider food, water, and even white blood cells a threat. You could have very well killed or seriously injured not only yourself but that baby inside of you; quite frankly I'm surprised you didn't."

She had no reply, and Madam Pomfrey stopped talking. There was silence for awhile, dead silence. One could have heard a pin drop with the same clarity of a gong being rung next to the ear. A nightmare come to life, worse then betraying her own morals, worse then missing classes, far worse then not having children when she was older—she was pregnant. Now. A mother at barely sixteen, well, most likely nearly seventeen when the baby would be born. She would surely be expelled for bringing such shame to the School's name. Where would she go? How would she get by? How was she supposed to tell…?

"Who is it?"

"I'm sorry?" Madam Pomfrey looked at her with such concern, she felt a little sick.

"Who's the father?" she asked, her voice crackling ever so slightly at the word 'father.'

"It's too early to tell." Madam Pomfrey answered truthfully. "Right now, I think you should consider what you want to do, and tell Mister Potter and Mister Weasley." she nodded. Madam Pomfrey left the two witches alone, to decide whether or not Hermione would be returning back to her dormitory.

For awhile, she actually kept a cool head. She thought of all the new responsibilities she had inadvertently caused for herself, and after the long silence said she would be fine in her own bed. Professor McGonagall didn't seem too convinced, and told her that if she needed to she could stay, and that she needed to think about how she felt about all this.

"I am simply going to sort out the problems, and think on it with a rational, logical mind." she said, with a strength that betrayed her heart. McGonagall smiled bitterly, and put a hand on her shoulder.

"This is about how you feel, Hermione." Professor McGonagall said, and she felt her chest tighten. "It's alright. I'm not going to judge you."

After a long pause, she tried to gather herself before she answered.

"I'm scared." she admitted in a whisper, her shoulders trembled as she fought back futile tears. "How can this be happening to me? That's all I can think. I've never felt this out of control, and it scares me. And the thought of being responsible for a baby, a_ person_ for the rest of my life scares me. What if I'm not good enough? What if I'm a bad mother? I never wanted to be a mother. I never studied anything about parenting! I'm not ready I… I'm not…"

"Hermione," Professor McGonagall didn't flinch, or even move when she fell into her chest, sobbing. She felt arms wrap around her tight, and she felt so warm. "It's alright to be scared, had I been in your situation at your age I would have been more then a wee bit scared, I would have been terrified."

She couldn't stop sobbing though, and she listened to McGonagall's soothing heartbeat. "I'm scared," she would choke, and McGonagall would only hold her closer, and stroke her hair.

"I know." McGonagall whispered.

* * *

AUTHORS NOTE:_ I am seriously considering ending it here. Also, before anyone flames me, I did medical research and yes, it HAS happened before, although there were no spells involved, just sleepwalking. _

_And anyone who says Hermione is out of character; well, duh, she's sixteen and she's pregnant, how would you feel?_

_Thank you for reading and if I get enough reviews I'll continue. _


	6. Chapter 5

AUTHORS NOTE: _This is femslash Hermione/Minerva and also a little Hermione/Ron and Hermione/Harry. _

* * *

Minerva stayed perfectly still, not daring to move a single muscle that could disturb the sleeping beauty from her dreams. 

_So beautiful,_ Minerva thought as the moonlight gracefully shimmered through the Hospital Wing's windows, and cascaded across the young woman in her arms.

They were in a rather awkward position. Minerva's legs were mostly off of the hospital bed and her neck arched up against the thin pillow and the back of the bed. Hermione was partially on top, partially next to her with her legs curled inward and her left knee was resting right over the space in between Minerva's thighs.

The girl had cried herself to sleep, and had not dared to let the poor Professor go. Of course, Minerva had no complaints, she was quite content to have this pleasure and deal with the back and neck pain in the morning. For being able to comfort and hold her secret love, it was worth it.

_She looks like an angel,_ Minerva thought. She smiled, taking all the time in the world to take in the sight adoringly. She moved the hand that had been placed on Hermione's arm and raised it gently to her cheek to brush away a loose strand of hair back into place. Her fingertips brushed against the warm, soft skin accidentally and she froze. Hermione began to stir, and Minerva held her breath. To her surprise, her student did not awake, but made a soft sound, a moan. A worried expression made its way to Minerva's face, that is, until another soft moan graced her ears, this time, pleasure evident within the sound.

Minerva blushed as a sleeping, dreaming Hermione cuddled deeper into her chest and wrapped her arms around her slim waist, and murmured.

Was it suddenly getting hot? Minerva loosened the collar of her nightdress in an attempt to cool (or maybe calm) down. She heard another moan, and with Hermione's mouth so dangerously close to her breast, she thought she might just die.

With this thought in mind, you could imagine her surprise when she felt much needed, and at the same time, hated pressure in between her thighs. That damn, wonderful knee was pressing up into her through her dress. A whimper escaped her. She felt Hermione shift again and almost shivered when she felt a hand brush against her breast.

_Control yourself,_ her mind scolded. _You're acting like some kind of _voyeur_ for Merlin's sake!_

"Miss Granger," she managed in a slight squeak as Hermione's knee hit a certain spot that caused her hips to buck. "Dear, Hermione, p-please, wake up, please, now. H-Hermione!"

Hermione's eyes fluttered opened, and she yawned. Minerva had to do her best to calm down, thankful and regretful that the slumbering assault on her body had been put to an end. She put on a small smile as her beloved pupil looked up at her with sleepy eyes.

"Minerva?" Hermione mumbled.

"Yes, dear—Hermione, it's just me. You were quite fidgety in your sleep, are you alright?"

"Mmhmm," Hermione murmured with a goofy smile. "Had a good dream." and the older woman couldn't help but smile and blush.

"Oh I bet you did. Do you mind if I readjust myself? My neck seems to dislike its current placement." It took a moment for Hermione to actually understand the words, but she moved and let the older witch slide down so her head fully rested on the pillow and she gave a sigh of relief. "Mmm, much better, I suppose old bones complain more then young ones." Hermione rested back into her side, not even waiting for an invitation and snuggled close. Minerva chuckled despite herself.

"Comfy?" she asked. Hermione shyly nodded, and looked up at her once more.

"Can… can you hold me again?" Hermione asked in a small, frail voice. She sounded like a child afraid of rejection. "I don't want to be alone." Minerva wrapped her arms around her and held her tenderly, hoping the one in her arms was too tired or in need of comfort to notice the love she knew must have been clearly seen in her eyes.

"Of course, dear," Minerva said softly, gently rubbing the young woman's back in a soothing manner. Her own selfish pleasure forgotten, put aside to comfort the one she loved. She looked out of the windows into the night sky, it must have been well past midnight by now, and she doubted she was going to make it back to her own rooms. But, then again, she found she didn't really mind. Hermione settled into her arms, calmed and soothed until her brown eyes closed and her mind drifted off to more… innocent dreams.

-------------------------------------------

Hermione awoke in the arms of her Professor, and wondered what she was doing, in the arms of her Professor. Then, slowly, ever so slowly, reality came crashing back on her and she paled. She was pregnant, she was sixteen, in school and without a home to go back to, and she had cried half the night in the arms of her kind, and unbelievably understanding teacher.

Honestly, she didn't mind the last part—it was the other things that made her skin crawl. In her head, thousands of scenarios and ideas and fears came in a giant tornado, zooming about her mind causing chaos. She found it hard to breath, like someone had drained the oxygen from the air. Her stomach turned inside out. Her body felt like it was on fire. Her heart felt like it could pound out of her chest completely.

Minerva had awoken, she felt it, but hadn't said a word; perhaps to let her think on what needed to be thought, analyze what needed conclusion. After what felt like hours had passed, she felt the Professor under her move.

"Hermione," Minerva spoke once she had thought Hermione had calmed down enough. Her Professor moved from under her, to the side and slipped out of the bed. She turned then put her hands over her star pupil's, giving them a gentle squeeze. "I know this will be difficult, but you need to consider what you want to do, do you understand?" Hermione slowly nodded in acknowledgment. "Do you want me to tell Mister Potter and Weasley?"

"No, I should tell them." Hermione said, but her head lowered. "But I'm still scared."

"Would you feel better if I was with you when you told them?" Minerva asked. Hermione blushed from embarrassment, and nodded silently.

"Do I have to tell them now?" she asked with a slight quiver in her voice. Minerva sympathetically stroked her hand. Brown eyes shimmered with fear and uneasiness, lips curled inward, and teeth grazed the skin irritating it pink. Minerva's emerald eyes softened, her hands stilling momentarily.

"No, but, the sooner you tell them the better, dear." Minerva said softly, and Hermione nodded.

"I know, but I just want to be calm when I tell them. Gods know how Ron will react, and I don't think I can handle that right now." Hermione smiled bitterly to herself and glanced at Minerva with watery eyes. "Does that sound childish of me?"

"No, not at all," Minerva said with a faint, sad smile. Hermione hugged her Professor tightly, and buried her face into her shoulder. "What's the matter?" she asked, but hugged back gently.

"I just—I—I mean," Hermione murmured with a slight sniffle. "You were there, even when I was acting like a two-year-old brat and crying 'bloody murder' all night," Minerva made to speak but Hermione placed two fingers over her lips to silence her. "No, let me finish, please. I disgraced you, the school and myself for letting this happen, but you were there to comfort me anyway. I just want to thank you, and say that I won't trouble you with it anymore. I'll be an adult about this." Minerva reached up, and took Hermione's fingers into her hand gently, probably in touch tenderer than a Professor should allow with a student, but she took the risk.

"Hermione, you are mature beyond your years. But my dear, you're still a child. A child thrust into young adulthood by war, now by this. It's not shameful to be scared, or sad, or angry. Also, you are not bothering me, you made a mistake and you were scared and needed someone to turn to. When you need me, whether it for chats of Theories of Magic or a hug in private—as I have said before—I'm here for you—as both a Professor and as a friend." Minerva smiled, "You know, I may be old, but I was young once. Don't think that just because I'm a little rusty I don't remember what it's like to be a teenager. Although, I will admit I was never in a situation like yours, I can try to understand and help—all of the Professors will—I'm sure. After all, you are the Pride of Hogwarts."

"More like failure of Hogwarts." Hermione mumbled, and Minerva put a hand on her cheek, and forced their eyes to meet.

"Hermione, listen to me. You made a mistake, yes, and you have to deal with the consequences; but by NO means, are you a failure. Understand? You are the most brilliant, strong, mature young witch I have ever had the pleasure of teaching. I know that when you finish school and move on, you'll do amazing things. I can feel it, Hermione." Hermione's cheeks flushed, and she nodded gently, a smile forming on her face. Minerva smiled back, a rare, full, beautiful smile, she gave Hermione's hand one last squeeze before letting go.

Minerva left Hermione's side and went to speak with Madam Pomfrey, leaving her alone with her thoughts. Without really thinking, she put a hand over her abdomen. It was the same as always, but she thought of how it would look in nine months, and she sighed. Although her appearance never played a major role in her life, other then the occasional make-up and shopping trips, she doubted being able to hide her stomach for more then a few months. She lifted her shirt a little and stared at her belly, the idea of a little fetus inside of her was both fascinating and frightening, heaven and hell, good and bad. It wasn't really one or the other, it just was. It would have to be.

"Madam Pomfrey says if you feel well enough, you may go." Minerva said, snapping the young witch out of her thoughts. "I, for one, think you need a little more time to absorb everything. I would rather you have a clear head when you come to class." Hermione nodded, understanding her friend and mentor's concern. She couldn't be thinking of this when she was taking tests or writing notes, she had missed too much to risk distractions.

It was almost time for breakfast when the Nurse, Headmistress and student had finished talking, explaining, and planning. Hermione had agreed to think and meditate on the situation, and Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall had decided for now, it would be best if no one knew of Miss Granger's predicament, other then a select few of the staff. When McGonagall left, Madam Pomfrey came to Hermione's bed side.

"Now just because you're off from class doesn't mean you're not going to eat breakfast young lady." Madam Pomfrey said seriously, and brought a tray of food to the bushy haired witch.

"I'm not that hungry." Hermione said lightly, but the tray was forced into her lap.

"No, no, no I'll have none of that. You're going to eat everything on your plate, go on, dear. You don't want to be going around eating beetles again, do you?" Madam Pomfrey grinned when Hermione turned white and began to eat her food quickly and without another protest.

--------------------------------------------

Ron and Harry walked their way down the corridors to the great hall. They both had tired, worried expressions on their faces. Hermione hadn't come back to the dorm before curfew and according to Ginny, hadn't been back all night. They as they entered the Great Hall, Harry brightened up a bit and moved swiftly to their usual spots and glanced back and forth, only to be disappointed by of the bushy haired head of his friend. Ron looked even worse, and slumped into his seat.

"Harry, I think I scared her off." Ron mumbled to Harry, who looked at him oddly.

"What?" Harry whispered.

There was a swish of robes behind them, and a familiar voice struck them head on. "Potter, Weasley,"

Harry and Ron turned around in their seats to see Professor McGonagall towering over them, with her usual stern, strict express on, nothing more, nothing less.

"Professor," Harry said in a manner of polite greeting. But Professor McGonagall looked down at them hard, and perhaps it was his imagination, but it felt as if she was silently cursing their very existence.

"Miss Granger is in the Hospital Wing." She began but at their concerned and shocked faces, she raised her hand slightly to stop any questions. "You may visit her after classes, _only_ after classes. I will be escorting you. Is this understood?" they were slightly surprised, for usually Professor McGonagall would let them skip at least a few minutes of class to visit whichever of the trio had landed him or her self in the Wing, but they nodded, and she turned on a swift heel and left.

"What the bloody hell's with her?" Ron asked with a disgusted tone, it seemed unfair that Professor McGonagall seemed to take out all her rage on them—more precisely poor Ron. Harry briefly wondered why this was, but then drifted back to thoughts of his best friend, laying in a Hospital Bed with a slight twinge of sadness. He settled for a shrug to his red haired friend's question.

----------------------------------------------

The classes of the day couldn't pass fast enough for the boys, more so for Ron then Harry. When the last class ended, they quickly made their way to the Hospital Wing. Harry pulled Ron back before he could enter the Wing.

"What?" he snapped to his friend.

"We have to wait for McGonagall, remember?" Harry said, and Ron scoffed, "or do you want her to turn us into snails?" at the mention of this, Ron quickly silenced and gulped. Sure, he was older now and not as scared, but from recent events he was almost certain that the old Witch wouldn't be bothered with school rules if he stepped out of line.

They waited, and waited, Ron's nerves were growing thin, and his palms were getting sweaty. He was worried about Hermione, _really_ worried. If she needed to stay overnight it must have been serious, right? What if they found she had some incurable disease, or that she was going to die, or that she was left in a coma or—

The two doors of the Wing opened, and McGonagall stood in the entrance. She looked at them with a piercing glare, but momentarily the emerald orbs seemed to soften, perhaps it was because of their worried faces, the concern. Whatever the reason, Ron was thankful and when she moved to the side he hurried in, Harry quickly in step.

He almost ran to the other end of the Hospital Wing to Hermione's bed. He blushed when he saw Hermione's slim waist exposed, the end of her shirt almost edging onto her ribcage. His staring must have been noticed, because he felt a jab in back of his head and looked to see McGonagall holding a hand, as if to strike again. He quickly went to Hermione's side, as if she was his shield against the Scottish wrath of his Professor.

Harry came to his side and near Hermione, though he didn't seem effected by the exposed skin.

"How are you doing, 'Mione?" Harry asked, and Ron, not trusting his voice looked at Hermione, silently asking the same thing.

"I'm fine." She said quietly, and sat up in bed, "just resting."

"You must have been bored here all day," said Ron, a small smile on his face when Hermione laughed a little.

"Not really, I have too much on my mind to bored," Hermione said with a slight toss of her hair, then she looked sad, disappointed. Then she looked like she was thinking of something. Then she looked scared.

"Hermione?" he asked softly, unsure if Hermione was truly alright. Hermione took in a shaky breath, but even though her mouth was opened, and she looked like she was about to speak not a single sound came from it. Ron looked over nervously at his friend beside him.

"Come on, Hermione," Harry said, trying to keep the tone light. "What do you want to say?"

Hermione's eyes turned glassy, her hand tightly gripped the sheets. She looked like she wanted to cry, but she was stubborn as always and forced the tears not to fall. Ron's heart skipped a beat when she looked at him, and then again when she looked at Harry. Something she had to say, it was big, he could feel it. But what was it?

"Mione, you're scaring me." Harry said softly, the smile on his face quickly vanishing. "What's wrong?" Hermione looked over her shoulder, to the Professor who stood behind her now. McGonagall put her hand on Hermione's shoulder, like she was urging the girl to continue and Hermione breathed a shaky breath.

"Ronald, Harry," Hermione started, and Ron's stomach sank. Now he knew it was something big. "I don't know how to say this…" she grabbed the slender hand near her leg, and squeezed it hard. It looked like the Professor winced, but maybe it was just his imagination. But, whatever it was, Hermione seemed to grow ever so slightly more confident, and she took a deep breath then let it out slowly.

"Hermione, for Merlin's sake spit it out already!" Ron pleaded suddenly. Hermione was scaring him.

"I'm pregnant."

Ron, and he was sure Harry as well, felt their world snap in an instant.

* * *

AUTHORS NOTE:_ Thanks to all the reviews, I am continuing the story. If anyone has any ideas or would like to see something in the story, leave a review and I'll consider it. Also, since the reviews have gone down, I'd like you to review if you read. Don't have to, but it'd be nice.  
_


	7. Chapter 6

Ron's mouth hung open. Harry had turned pale. Hermione sat stiffly in the bed as her Professor gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, the only thing that kept her from breaking at this point. Silence loomed in the air, but that was short lived.

"Bloody Hell!" erupted from Ron's mouth in a harsh yet childish shriek, "W-what? Are you even sure?"

"Yes, Ron, I'm sure." Hermione sighed, picking at the blanket's threads. Her brown eyes couldn't meet his blue ones, or Harry's brilliant (yet somehow not as enticing to her as Minerva's) green eyes. Ron's cheeks turned red, whether from anger or embarrassment, she couldn't tell, and honestly she really didn't want to. Harry swallowed hard. His knuckles had turned white from how hard his fist was clenched.

"H-how—who—do you know?" Harry stammered.

"No, Madam Pomfrey says it's too early to tell." Hermione said softly. Harry shakily nodded. Whereas Ron's hands had dragged themselves through his flaming red hair, his blue eyes wide in terror and shock. He was trembling, both boys were.

"Holy Hell, I got Hermione pregnant. Mum's gonna kill me." Ron murmured under his breath, and Harry looked at him slightly, then Hermione gave a ragged sigh, but the fear had crept up into her once again. Professor McGonagall spoke up.

"We're still not sure who the father is, Mister Weasley, to make that perfectly clear. As for Molly; I won't have news of this going out—to anyone—just yet." Minerva said with a stern voice, and Hermione relaxed a little.

Harry had to sit down, and Ron was pacing in a circle with his hands in his hair murmuring 'bloody hell,' over and over.

Hermione, through it all had sat up straight, and tried to look at the two young men, one of which was the father of the child inside of her. Minerva had watched the two in amusement and hatred. She had to give Potter his due, though, for the young man came around a lot faster than the bumbling red head. He stood and walked back up to Hermione's bed, and placed his hand over hers.

"I'm sorry," Harry said, "I'll do the best I can at making this whole mess up to you." he had a genuine concern in his eyes, and although Minerva hated him, she admired his honesty and willingness and ever so slightly began to forgive him. He was honestly sorry. Hermione looked at him, with a small nod and a smile. "Do you… know what you're going to do with the baby?"

Ron stopped pacing and looked over at Hermione, hope, yet shame and disappointment had shifted in his blue eyes. "That's it, get rid of it! Muggles have clinics and stuff like right?" he asked and Harry shot him a look disappointed look while Hermione looked shocked. "What?"

"Ronald Weasley, how dare you?" Hermione shouted suddenly, Harry backed away to avoid the wrath of the pregnant woman. "How dare you tell me what to do!"

"Harry asked first!" Ron squeaked, "Why are you yelling at me?"

"He asked what I was going to do; he didn't demand I have an abortion!"

"I didn't—whatever—it's not a big deal!" Ron yelled back, "It's not like its murder!" Hermione, despite the hand of her Professor got out of bed and charged right up to Ron, her eyes wild, her hands clenched to fists at her sides.

"Maybe not—maybe it is! I don't know! But it's a big deal to me! It's inside me! It's my choice!" Hermione shrieked, even though she had to almost balance on her tiptoes to even kiss his cheek, she seemed to tower over him as she backed him into a corner as their yelling match continued.

"Stop it you two…" Harry tried, but Hermione shot such a glare at him that stopped any more protests.

"Well it sure as hell would be better off dead then with you as a Mum!" he snapped, and Hermione felt her chest constrict painfully and tears begin to form behind her eyes.

"And it would be better off without you as a Dad!" she shouted back, pointing back at poor Harry. "I think Harry would make a much better father then you! But then again—anyone would be a better parent then you!"

"That is enough!" Minerva's voice rose far above the two yelling, and they froze. "Weasley, you will leave. Now! Potter, please make sure he finds his way out of the Hospital Wing—completely—Miss Granger, I want you to calm yourself down and climb back into bed this instant."

Ron muttered curses all the way out the door with Harry at his side. Hermione did much the same as she climbed into the bed and curled up, covering herself with the thin white blanket.

Minerva took a calming breath, wanting nothing more to hex Ronald Weasley from here to eternity for saying those horrible things. She pulled up a chair and sat down, waiting for the young woman to make some type of move, some signal she wanted comfort. She found it when the lump shivered and sobbed, and a hand peeked through the blankets.

"Is he gone?" Hermione choked.

"Yes, they're gone." Minerva said softly, taking the lone hand in her own. "You were doing so well, Hermione. I'm proud of you."

"He was right." Hermione whispered.

"Don't…" Minerva's tone was warning, and her eyes narrowed slightly in determination. She would not have Hermione take those vile words thrown at her seriously.

"But,"

"No."

"He was!" Hermione cried, "I'll never make a good mother! It's better off without me. I should just…"

"Hermione," Minerva's voice was hard, and firm, and caused Hermione to peer out from under her blankets. "Don't you dare believe a word that Weasley boy said, don't you think on it for one moment! What he said wasn't worth what a hippogriff could spit, do you hear me? Not. Worth. It." Minerva's voice lowered, and she held Hermione's scared, fragile hand in her own. "A parent's skills come from experience, and study, and love." Comfortable silence passed by for the two, each secretly relishing the other's friendship, and discreetly savored their hands entwined.

But, the questions that must be answered swirled in Minerva's head. In her capacity as Headmistress she should have sent Hermione home, but the girl had no home to speak of. In her capacity as a friend, she had the undying urge to help and support Hermione, and the part of her that was head over heels in love with the young woman refused to let the pregnant woman leave.

But what about Hogwarts' reputation?

Well, she could deal with that later. The devil with the Ministry, they had interfered enough with Hogwarts—Minerva remembered Umbridge with the same fondness she could have remembered the war. Well thank goodness that old hag was rotting in Azkaban.

"Have you thought of what you will do?" Minerva asked softly. Hermione nodded a little, moving the blanket from her body.

"I have, and I'm not sure—I mean—I could get an abortion… or I could have it, and give the baby up for adoption." Minerva didn't reply, but it seemed Hermione wasn't waiting for an answer. "But I don't want to!" Hermione's eyes showed how torn she was, and Minerva felt a wave of sympathy for her. "I mean, I feel like I don't want the baby—I know all the responsibilities that go with it, and yet, I feel like even so, I actually do want it—does that sound strange? After all, I never wanted to be a mother but… now I feel like—I don't know—like I want it more than anything. I just don't understand myself anymore."

"I understand perfectly well," Minerva said.

They were quite for a long while. Hermione took a deep breath.

"… I think… I just want it safe and loved."

"Then you'll make the right decision." Minerva said, her voice failing surprisingly quickly as Hermione looked into her eyes. Those eyes, her eyes, a swirl of emotions clouded in the chocolate orbs. They stayed silent for such a long time. When Madam Pomfrey watched them from behind a screen she thought that they may have been petrified.

Madam Pomfrey was about to speak, and almost choked on her own voice.

* * *

Hermione leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on the Headmistress's cheek. Minerva was shocked, then confused, and then a smile played on her lips, her heart fluttered in her chest and she felt lighter than air in that moment.

"Thank you," Hermione said, looking down at her hands.

"For what?" Minerva asked with a light tone, and a small smile.

"Helping me, I know you have other things to do and shouldn't be bothered with this."

"Hush," Minerva put a hand under Hermione's chin and gently forced her to look up. "I'm your friend after all; friends are there to help and comfort in times of need, aren't they?" Hermione smiled a little.

"Yeah, some friends," Hermione said, briefly thinking on Harry.

"Ahem," Madam Pomfrey cleared her throat and Minerva and Hermione both quickly looked at her and Headmistress stood. "Miss Granger, it's time for dinner, dear." Hermione sighed, and made a face. She didn't eat all that much to begin with but Madam Pomfrey had been making her eat all sorts of small foul tasting things all day, apparently to get her nutrition up. "Oh don't worry, it's what's being served in the Great Hall, so it shouldn't taste like mud." She said with a smile, almost chuckling when Hermione looked relieved.

Madam Pomfrey put the tray on Hermione's lap, and looked over at Minerva with a knowing smile. Minerva, for all her brilliance, was completely oblivious that the blush of her cheeks had been seen.

* * *

After much convincing on Minerva's half, Madam Pomfrey had let Hermione return to her dorm and she now walked with her Professor down the corridors towards Gryffindor Tower. Hermione had been unusually quiet, and it worried Minerva.

"Is everything alright, Miss Granger?"

"What? Oh, yes, Professor." Hermione said. She fought every nerve in her body when she felt a slight heat rise to her cheeks. She had been thinking of the kiss she had given Minerva, and it sent little shivers of delight down her back, for instead of shock or disgust, she had gotten a smile in response. She remembered how it felt, and the slight jolt she had gotten when her lips met soft skin.

Minerva had felt much the same thing, and kept hold on her hand in order to keep it from reaching to the spot kissed. She convinced herself with a vigor that the kiss had been innocent, a thank you, and that it was highly inappropriate for her to consider it anything else. When they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, Hermione paused, as if rethinking her decision.

"Hermione?" Minerva asked quietly, putting her hand on the girl's shoulder.

"I… I'm not sure if I can go in." Hermione whispered, her head lowering. She felt herself tremble, but Minerva just moved closer, bending slightly to be at eyesight with her.

"Why don't we take some time to go over what you missed in Transfiguration, Miss Granger?" Minerva said, with an air of humor and heavy professionalism. Hermione looked up at her Professor, almost asking her with her eyes, really? Minerva nodded. "Come, we will go to my office for your lesson." And Hermione's relief couldn't have been more obvious if she had shouted it off the top of a mountain.

* * *

The hour passed, but neither noticed as the clock struck 9. They had gone over the last few weeks of lessons, tried a few spells, and Hermione had successfully turned her desk into a stone statue and back again (after about ten tries). Now they were seated next to each other on the love seat near the fireplace, speaking of Magic Theories and of an article in Transfiguration Today.

Hermione laughed a little at something Minerva had said, holding her cup of tea tightly as to stop it from spilling. Minerva gave a soft chuckle, probably more so for Hermione's humor then her own. Hermione's eyes drifted over the room.

Yes, room. Hermione still had a little trouble believing she was there.

The house elves had been busy cleaning Minerva's Office, and neither being one to get in peoples way, they retreated their lessons to Minerva's private rooms.

Hermione poured some more tea into her cup, but noticed that it only filled a quarter of the teacup. Minerva noticed and hastily stood. "I'll make us some more," she held her hand out and Hermione gently handed back the teapot and Minerva left for the Kitchenette. Hermione curled her legs under her, and she looked freely around the room. There were books in the shelves that lined the walls, photos here and there on the mantle. The colors were traditional red and gold Gryffindor, especially the drapes across the large four poster bed which also had the symbol.

Curiosity got the better of her. Hermione stood and walked over to the moving pictures on the mantel. There were three that were group pictures, obviously from years apart for the Gryffindor houses. She looked at one in the far back, a girl with black hair pulled into a pony tail, swished about the sky on a broom, holding a snitch tightly in her hand.

Hermione looked at the girl's face close, and she let out a slight gasp.

It was Minerva! Obviously the picture was taken long ago when she was younger and still in school. She hadn't known Minerva played in the house team—or that she had been a seeker. Well, that explains her almost unhealthy attraction to Quidditch, Hermione thought with a small grin. She looked at the others, and she noticed a single frame turned face down. She gently pushed it up and felt her heart sink.

Minerva stood, a young adult, standing dangerously close to a red haired, young Madam Hooch. Madam Hooch's arms were wrapped about Minerva's waist, and she was grinning evil to the camera then quickly turning her head to kiss Minerva's cheek, while Minerva seemed embarrassed smiling back at the camera.

Hermione felt a lump in her throat. For some reason this picture made her unbelievably sad, jealous and maybe even a bit angry, but whatever she felt it didn't show on her face.

"Hermione?" Hermione slowly turned, looking over to Minerva who stood with a filled teacup for her. Her emerald eyes showed concern, then embarrassment when she saw the picture frame Hermione held in her hand.

* * *

Minerva strode quickly to her side. Hermione looked back at the picture, and seemed a little blank. Minerva cleared her throat nervously; obviously the affection showed by her now Employee and then teammate unnerved her student. Well why shouldn't it? Not everyone sees two of the teachers in their school in such an awkward, yet misleading embrace.

"I had just caught the snitch that won the Quidditch Cup," Minerva said in way of explanation. "She was such a bundle of energy. She started jumping all over me."

"And you let her?"

Was it her, or did it sound like Hermione had resentment in her tone.

"We had a very… complicated friendship." Minerva said, unable to actually explain how in the world they became friends in the first place.

"Were you too romantically involved?" Hermione asked, and Minerva cleared her throat. "If it's too personal…"

"No, no, it's fine. I admit that back then we had crushes on one another, but it passed as we grew older." Minerva said, leaving out a fairly large detail of them once being in a relationship for a year and a half after their fifth year. Hermione's shoulders slowly lowered, had she been that tense in the first place? Would it bother the young Witch that much to think that her Professor of Transfiguration preferred women to men? Suddenly Minerva felt a bit nervous.

"Minerva, may I ask a question?"

"Yes, Hermione?" Minerva glanced at Hermione, who looked back at her. Hermione looked like she wanted to say something, every signal her body made was shouting she was about to tell a secret, her eyes showed it. But, whatever it was, Hermione just shook her head quickly and looked into the fire.

"Nothing," Hermione said. She then looked at the clock. "I think I'm ready to go now."

Minerva simply nodded, and put the cups down. Whatever it was Hermione wanted to say, she had a feeling she would say it when she was ready, and not a minute before.


	8. AUTHORS NOTE

AUTHORS NOTE: _Alright, I kind of knew this was going to happen. Because of the reviews I have recived I want to make something very, very clear._

_**This fiction is NOT pro-life**_

_**It is not anti-life**_

_**It is not about morality or immorality.**_

_This fiction is just about the characters mentioned and how they see and view the current situation and how I believe they would react. _

_I think Hermione would be against it, with her being a rights activist and all. _

_I think Ron would think of it as an easy way out. _

_I'm not sure what Harry would think but I do know that he would try to be respectful of what Hermione thought._

_And as I said before, Minerva is sort of torn between the two._

_So, just so that was made perfectly clear. If you're against it, fine, if your for it, fine. That's your decision in life and that's how you view your opinions. This fiction does **not** reflect on my personal view of it either, so that is also made clear._

_This is not personal; it's **FICTION.**_

_**T**hank you for reading and I hope you continue, and thank you for being nice when you review and civil. _

_Next Chapter will be done as soon as I can get it written._

_Have a nice day._


	9. Chapter 7

AUTHORS NOTE:

Enjoy.

* * *

_A white wonderful cake, a little enchanted figure of a man and woman, one in black, the in white. Minerva's eyes glazed over. What was wrong? It was a beautiful scene, decorations of pink and white all over, the chairs the banner, the arch—wonderfully done. But she felt her heart, and it was breaking, why? Why? _

_She heard the bells, the song, everyone who had been seated perfectly still around her were up in an instant and turned in unison towards the back. She was the only one not, as if she was not a part of the collective minds of the crowd. In curiosity she stood slowly and looked. There, on the arm of a man in black, a woman stood, all dressed in white. A veil covered her face. Two walked in time with the music. Left, pause, right, pause, left, pause... it was painfully slow. _

_She could hear a baby begin to cry, and she turned her head, eyes fell on an aging Molly Weasley with a little child in her arms, she was dressed up. Whose child was that? _

_In almost another second, the two were up at the altar. The man gave what seemed to be his daughter to the red haired man—wait, was that Ronald? It was! Then who was his bride? Vows were exchanged, rings were placed. _

_The more adult Ron lifted the veil. _

_Minerva gasped so loudly she was sure everyone heard, but none looked at her, all to bewitched by the beautiful bride at the top of the altar with her all too-soon-to-be husband. _

_"Whoever thinks that these two should not be wed speak now, or forever hold your piece." _

_Minerva wanted to scream NO! She wanted to rush up to the altar and to tell Hermione how badly this sight was breaking her heart. That the younger woman could do so much better than him. It wouldn't hurt this much if it had just been someone else! _

_But she said nothing, and she watched in pure, unadulterated horror as the two smiled shyly at each other and the space between them vanished, and their lips met. Hands clamped around the other in a passionate embrace. Then no one was there, it was just the three. Minerva was held in place, by an invisible force, no matter how much she wanted to look away and cry. _

_That damned boy started to take Hermione's wedding gown off, she watched as Hermione's head tilted back in apparent ecstasy but she wore a small frown. More clothes were removed in shameful lust. Hermione looked bitter with resentment at her, straight at her, as Ron took her. Minerva screamed. _

A piercing scream startled Minerva awake, only to realize it had been her own. Her body was covered in a cold sweat, tears had been spilling out of her eyes, and her chest ached painfully. She couldn't move, she couldn't breathe. The sight had caused her such disgust and horror. Not him, by Gods anyone but him! He didn't deserve Hermione's love, or body, or mind—he was in no way her equal! She needed someone who would love her and cherish her and take care of her.

Minerva shakily moved from her bed and stumbled along the floors of her rooms, trying to forget her dream.

...

Hermione awoke in a cold sweat, her eyes as big as saucers and her breath coming out in short breathes. She had a horrible nightmare of getting married to a certain Ronald Weasley. It was truly horrible! The wedding was beautiful, but she saw Minerva there too… god, she looked so beautiful, but that look of disappointment on her face had saddened her so. And when Ron had taken off her dress, she had closed her eyes and threw her head up, trying her hardest to wake up. It didn't work. He took her, and she felt so angry. He did it right in front of Minerva, who looked so disgusted and shamed. She briefly felt angry that her Professor hadn't done anything to stop it. Minerva screamed, and she woke up.

Hermione shivered in disgust and she buried her head in her pillow, curling up into a tight ball. She was about to drift off to sleep again when she felt a pain in her belly. She breathed in a sharp breath of air, and held her belly. Madam Pomfrey had said due to the Parasite-Stopping charms she had placed on herself she would be in pain for a while, but still, it scared her. She reached over to the chair next to her bed and pulled out a small vile, filled with pink potion and downed it in a grimace. The pain stopped, but she still shivered.

She wished there was someone she could talk to. But as she looked over to a sleeping Ginny Weasley, she knew that, for the time being, she was alone.

...

Minerva sat in her office, still in her tartan pajamas, going over the mountain of paperwork. She had needed to clear her head, and thoughts of the previous night's dreams. She gave a heavy sigh, and leaned back in her chair. She had been working since she had woken up at one in the morning. Her skull screamed at her, suffering a violent headache, it demanded relief. But she didn't feel like going to Poppy to get a potion, for she knew the woman would make her stay and get a check-up.

And considering the last one she had was almost two years ago, she had to say she didn't blame the Healer. But she couldn't seem to find time, and she felt fit as a fiddle, there was no reason to get one over by her friend. Her slender fingers massaged her temple, and gave a frustrated groan. She needed to relax.

Minerva continued to sort through the papers, grade, write, answer. When her headache finally passed, going off to bother another innocent skull, she slumped at her desk. She glanced over at the clock, and noticed that it was already six. Her body stayed still for awhile, her mind raced about with different ideas and thoughts of what the day would bring. Finally she stood and pulled on a robe and carried her clothes for the day.

It was time for a bath.

...

The morning came, and Hermione sat up, feeling almost sinfully happy. She kicked off the sheets to her bed and stood up and stretched. She had an odd taste in her mouth, but dismissed it almost immediately. Her hands ran through her messy hair and she sighed dreamily, she wondered what the big deal was with morning sickness, she hadn't felt nauseous once! Every morning had been happy, and dare she say it, giddy. Her eyes went over to the window, and she saw that it was still before sunrise—perfect! No one else would be awake to disturb her. Her daily routine continued without a hitch.

She picked up her clothes for the day and a towel, Crookshanks had turned over on his back, lazily looking up at his mistress with a slightly curious, slightly bored expression on his scrunched face. Hermione smiled brightly at him and rubbed under his chin. "Good-morning lazy," she chirped. He looked at her, _what is wrong with you?_

"Oh hush, you lazy thing, you're not busting my bubble." Hermione gave him a little pat then turned and skipped out of the dorm down the stairs, into the common room. She lit the fire to warm the cold air. She gave another pleasant sigh as she stepped out of the common room's portrait hole, she noticed the Fat Lady was still asleep, and giggled softly as she headed off to go to the showers.

But, as soon as she got close, she turned on her heel. She didn't feel like standing up in a shower today, she felt like floating in a tub. The prefect's bathroom would do just fine.

...

Minerva walked briskly down the halls to the prefect's bathroom. She knew since it was so early there was no chance any of the students would be up. After turning the large tub on, she removed her pajamas and put them down away from the possibility of getting wet. She unhooked her white bra and knickers, kicking them over towards the pile of clothes, she had been too tired to fold them. She untied her hair from its braid she wore to sleep, and slipped into the giant bathtub and sighed as the hot water worked at her stressed and ridged body to calmness.

Her emerald eyes closed and she murmured softly in content. Merlin she needed this, a nice, quiet, soothing hot bath. No interruptions, an escape from her responsibilities and worries. She caressed her body as she washed it, taking a moment to inspect her chest and arms and stomach. Thanks to years upon years of Quidditch, she had an excellent body. Her breasts were still as full as they had been when she was in her thirties, as were her arms, neck, waist—her body which was usually hidden under heavy robes wasn't the body of an old woman but a woman of mid-thirties, possibly forty. She saw her reflection in the water, and gently put a finger to her eyes. The worst part of her aging was the crows-feet, and faint laugh-lines. How she, the strict but fair Minerva McGonagall had gotten _laugh-lines_ she'd never know. They weren't many, but they were there she suddenly felt old.

She knew that a woman of seventy—even for a pureblood woman—she looked fair, good even. She wondered briefly why she suddenly cared—of course she always had cared how she looked, in the way a professor ought to look or dances, but in beauty? She chuckled slightly, she felt like the schoolgirl she never was. After washing, she sat up, her torso fully exposed from the water as she worked her hands through her hair lightly before letting the damp locks fall about her shoulders.

She felt so calm and serene, that she was tempted to fall asleep right then and there in the magical water. She tilted her head back, resting it on the edge of the stone floor that dipped to become the tub and was close to sleep when she heard a surprised gasp. She quickly sat up, then sank down realizing she was naked and covered herself with her arms. Her eyes darted towards the sound.

...

Hermione had entered the prefect's bathroom in expectation for some peace and quiet. She never expected to walk in on a woman, half out of the water, her naked chest shimmering in the morning light with her fingers going through her hair. Hermione stopped mid step, and she gasped in surprise, it was delayed, for a moment she had thought she didn't know this woman, but as she saw those emerald eyes she knew it was indeed her Professor. Minerva and Hermione's eyes met.

"Minerva,"

"H-Hermione, what are you doing up this early?" Minerva asked, her words slightly rushed and her face turning red. Hermione wondered if it was from the hot water or from embarrassment.

"I was coming to take a bath why else would I be here?" Hermione smiled, the shock had left her, and in the back of her mind thanked her pregnancy's hormones. "Mind if I join you?" She put her clothes to one side and started to undress. Minerva watched and silently cursed her eyes, for she couldn't see Hermione's stripping form clearly without her spectacles.

But Minerva heard each piece of clothing fall, and she gulped. It wasn't like she hadn't shared the bath with others before, both male and female, but certainly never with a student (or a student she was head over heels with.) As she heard the footsteps coming closer, she thought of the rules, and then realized that there wasn't a single one she could bring up in her defense as excuse to leave in a hurry.

She heard the movement of water and she blinked back her vision, Hermione was close enough for her to see now. She tried to keep her eyes focused on anything but the tempting young woman now swimming to her side.

"Do you always get up this early?" Hermione asked. Her cheery tone had lessened to a more 'Hermione' kind of way.

"No, not especially," Minerva said simply, "I couldn't sleep."

"Oh," Hermione said, moving a little away again to start washing herself. Minerva respectfully looked away, but couldn't help but sneak glances every now and then. "Why couldn't you sleep? If you don't mind me asking."

"Not at all, I had…" Minerva made a face at thought of her dream and pushed it in the farthest, darkest corner of her mind, "a bad dream."

At this Hermione thought of her bad dream, and frowned. She didn't need to think about that now, or the disappointed look of the other woman, or her scream… She scrubbed her arm harder. "I had one too."

"Do you wish to talk about it?" Minerva asked, her back straightening at the thought of her love disturbed by slumbers thoughts.

"No, not really," Hermione said. Her moods were changing, and they were changing quickly, she had a neutral voice to her now, and her cheeriness had left. This attitude-change slightly unnerved Minerva, having not been used to Hermione speaking to her in such a way. "It was just some stupid thing. What about yours?" but her tone sounded like she didn't really care, and Minerva sank a little in her spot. This was suddenly becoming very awkward, very fast.

"It was a little unnerving, but I've gotten over it. Thank you for asking."

"Sure, whatever," Hermione shrugged and washed her hair. Minerva glanced over at Hermione again, and made the mistake of doing it when the girl's eyes had been trained at her. "What are you staring at?"

"I'm not staring," Minerva said calmly, but her heart skipped a beat at having been caught. Hermione looked angry, and Minerva tried not to feel hurt or annoyed. "Are you alright?"

But then Hermione turned fully to her, and smiled, almost… flirtatiously and came dangerously close to a surprised Minerva. "I'm perfect, why do you ask?" she twirled some of the ebony locks around her two fingers, and Minerva had to fight every urge in her body not to swoon at the darkened eyes of her student.

"Your mood swings really are incredible." Minerva said, her voice slipping back into professional mode. Hermione seemed… hurt? No, no that couldn't be right. But whatever Hermione was really feeling was hidden and she looked at Minerva's hair.

"Your hair is so soft; do you use a special shampoo?" Hermione asked, letting the locks fall from her fingers. Minerva smiled ever so slightly.

"No, it's naturally like that."

"Why do you keep it in a bun?"

"Practicality," Minerva said, "professionalism, character, a number of reasons." Minerva felt Hermione's hand stroke her hair and she smiled. She supposed she should humor the hormonal woman, at the very least in private, but she couldn't help but feel uneasy as the bubbles hiding her form started to fade, and the fact if she glanced down ever so slightly she could almost see places she shouldn't.

When Hermione moved closer to her, and the bubbles parted, she inwardly shivered. Enough was enough; she had let this little peep show go on for too long. She was taking advantage of a student who was, in all reality an emotional tornado. Minerva quickly pulled her towel from behind her and stood, wrapping it around her securely.

"I best be on my way," Minerva said and stepped out of the tub and retrieved her clothes, Hermione watched her leave, and Minerva was shaken by the feeling of brown eyes burning into her back as she walked to one of the stalls to change.

...

Hermione watched Minerva until her Professor's body was blocked from view by the stall's wall. She turned and sunk into the water, her mind racing and her heart pounding.

_What the bloody hell was that about, you idiot? Merlin, girl, keep it together! It doesn't matter if you have mood swings; you're stronger than that—control yourself damn it. You don't take a bath with your teacher. You don't comment on her appearance while naked with her in a bath and you most certainly do **not** flirt with her! _Her rational mind came back in full force, and she narrowed her eyes. Where was that little brutal voice in her head when she really needed it, when she was within ten feet of her beautiful, wonderful, brilliant Professor?

_Now you really sound like a love-sick puppy._ Hermione pouted to the water, and shook her head. No! She didn't pout, she scowled! She was starting to get annoyed with the whole hormone thing.

* * *

Authors note: _Here it is._


	10. Chapter 8

The next month consisted of classes, detention, and Hospital Wing visits. Hermione had told Ginny, who was shocked beyond all belief and had not spoken to her for half a day, not out of anger or anything but because she needed to adjust, which honestly was better than Hermione thought she would react. During one of her visits to the wing, Ron had met up with her.

"What do you want?" Hermione muttered. Ron stuffed his hands in his pockets, awkwardly shifting his weight against his other foot.

"I just wanted to say, sorry for freaking out there, mate." Ron said, honest regret was in his voice. "I just… well you can't bloody blame me, can you? I mean, you're pregnant—we're not even out of school yet!"

"I know, I understand. But what you said was still hurtful." Hermione said softly, "and it's not like I didn't think about getting an abortion—I_did, _I covered all the bases. But I just can't do it. Maybe in normal circumstances I could but now, I don't know, it's hard to describe. I feel like, I feel like I know it's alive, that it's special and not just a bunch of cells meshed together." An uncomfortable silence filled the air, and she cleared her throat. "And besides all that, I guess I have to apologize to you too. I don't think you'd make that bad of a dad when you get older, you know, when you're ready. I didn't mean to say those things, I was just angry at what you said."

"Yeah, no problem," Ron shrugged. "I guess you'd be an okay mom too. Sorry for being such a bugger about it."

Hermione smiled a little, and waited a few moments, then held out her hand, "So, truce?" Ron looked oddly at her hand, then at her, and she felt slightly rebuffed and thought about taking her hand back. But before she could Ron shook her hand.

"Truce, but you're still a bossy mental know-it-all," But he grinned, and Hermione laughed.

"I wouldn't try for anything less, Ron." Hermione decided, that if she was going to have one of the two's baby, that they might as well go through the hell together. She linked her arm through his and they walked into the Hospital Wing, although Ron was a bit reluctant.

...

The worse part, would have had to been the mood swings. One minute she would be cheery and giddy, the next she was solemn and emotionless—particularly in potions—it rivaled Snape's attitude, and needless to say a more than a little frightening to the other students in the classroom. Two Snapes? Where was the world going to?

Another thing was that her uniform shirt was much too tight. Not so much around the belly as it was her chest. One day when she was fighting with her bra, Ginny walked into the dorm.

"'Mione, you alright?" Ginny asked as she plopped down on her bed, which was next to Hermione's. Hermione have a frustrated groan in response and finally managed to clip the damn thing that pressed her breasts together almost painfully. There was a slight ripping noise, and the older witch let out an animalistic growl and slammed her hands down onto the bed.

"I hate this! This is the only bra that I've been able to get to fit me for the last two weeks, and now look at it! The seams are coming apart, this is just bloody ridiculous!" Hermione was fuming, her hair was messy and her face lit a scarlet in rage. Ginny, actually couldn't help the small lopsided grin that appeared on her face.

"Ron was right; ya look cute when you're mad."

"Shut up!" But Hermione smiled slightly and rolled over onto the bed, which bounced slightly at the fast movement. Ginny laughed a bit and stood up from her bed and laid with Hermione. "I guess I'll have to go and get new bras, huh?"

"Yup,"

"Then there's clothes…"

"Mmhmm."

"This is going to cost a lot, isn't it?"

"Yup," Ginny nodded and Hermione frowned, looking up at the canopy. Ginny rolled over so her head was near Hermione's exposed belly and sniggered. "You're an expensive little bugger, aren't ya?" Ginny said to the belly, and Hermione chuckled. "Did you decide if you're keeping it or not?"

Hermione shrugged slightly and sighed. "I don't know, I want to keep it but at the same time I think it might be better off with another family." Ginny nodded slightly, only half understanding the torment Hermione's mind was bringing her over the subject. There was a swishing of robes and clicking of heels. Both girls looked up towards the doorway to see a dressed-and-ready-to-go McGonagall standing there.

Minerva looked at the two girls in surprise, especially at Hermione's state of undress. "Miss Granger, Miss Weasley, if you intend to join the rest of the group to the village I suggest you hurry." Her face and tone were usual, but her heart was beating quicker as Hermione sat up and looked at her. "Miss Granger, I expect you will put on a bit more before departing?" her eyebrow rose and Hermione blushed.

"Yes, of course Professor." Hermione said quickly. She off of the bed in a shy flash, and grabbed her shirt, pulling it over her head. After a groan of hate, the red haired Weasley helped fit the now tight shirt over Hermione's chest, and caught a flash of emerald her way, and glanced from the corner of her eye at the source. A glare had been fixated on her by Professor Minerva McGonagall, one that was… envious, jealous? How could _that_ be right? But it was, Ginny could tell perfectly well—she would have to tell Hermione later.

Minerva knew she had been caught staring when a confused look appeared on Ginny's face. Her heart fluttered when Hermione turned to look at her, and she folded her arms over her chest, and turned on her heel and down the stairs quickly.

"If you're finished then hurry along, come on." Minerva called over her shoulder. The two girls looked at one another then quickly followed their Headmistress.

...

The walk into Hogsmeade was normal, the stores and people there as always. Going back and forth, with this and that, business was abuzz. Hermione, Harry, Ron and Ginny walked together, as the other students paired and went to different shops. After the boys decided to go over to Zonko's Joke Shop, Ginny and Hermione headed off to Gladrags Wizardwear.

The two went through the Wizarding Maternity wear, after getting Hermione's new measurements from a rather 'enthusiastic' bewitched measuring tape. Each piece either much too colorful or much too heavy for Hermione's taste, after going through the line of clothes out on display, she looked over at Ginny with a frustrated look. "Merlin, can't they have anything… you know… normal?"

"Since when did ya care?" Ginny smiled, and Hermione blushed slightly. As they looked through another rack for the second time, receiving odd looks from the clerk. There was a jingle of a bell, and Ginny glanced over, seeing a certain Professor walk in, obviously not having noticed her or her friend.

"Hey, 'Mione?" Hermione gave a slight noise of acknowledgment as she looked at a previously unnoticed shirt. "Do ya notice how McGonagall looked at ya earlier?"

"What do you mean?" Hermione's attention was immediately drawn right at Ginny when Minerva's name was mentioned, then she took a breath when she noticed said woman in the store. Ginny looked into Hermione's eyes as they stared across the floor to their Headmistress, eyes filled with interest, longing and… it clicked.

"'Mione… you're in love with her, aren't ya?" Ginny asked in pure shock. Hermione turned white as a ghost, terror rose in her eyes, then it quickly turned to a blush and embarrassment and then she turned to the clothes and pulled out a shirt.

"T-that's nonsense, Gin, she's a Professor—and a woman," Hermione said in a low shaky voice, "and almost sixty years older than me."

"Hermione," Ginny said, her tone telling she was taking no nonsense and no lies. Hermione's head hung shamefully at being caught. They stayed in silence, and settled on some bras for Hermione and two pairs of bright maternity shirts and paid for them, they moved silently and dodged the older witch whenever she moved about the store; it seemed Minerva none-the-wiser of the two.

Finally, they exited in a quick escape, neither knowing that indeed, Minerva _had _seen them, and _had_ felt her heart leap when she felt Hermione's eyes on her, and that she _had_ noticed the two avoiding her. When she heard the bell, a small frown appeared on her face for a moment. She couldn't help but wonder what had she done that caused the young witch to act so?

...

Hermione and Ginny went over to buy some sweets from Honeydukes. Finally, when they had bought the candies that settled Hermione's almost animalistic hunger, they sat outside the store together, and Hermione shared some of her sweets. It was awhile before one of them broke the silence.

"How did you…"

"The way you looked at her when she walked in."

"Was I really that obvious?" Hermione blushed and sank against the wall. Ginny shrugged and sucked on her lollipop.

"You instantly came to attention when I mentioned your name, and I could see it in your eyes." Ginny said, "I just think it was because she was _there_. But yeah, it was pretty obvious."

"Do you think I'm mad for being…" Hermione flushed harder and nibbled nervously on her sweets, "attracted?"

"Of course not, everyone gets a crush on their teachers at least once." Ginny said, with a grin. "Not in love mind ya, but crushes."

"And me?"

"Well, I'm no expert, but that look in your eyes wasn't like any crush I've seen. It was almost like how my Mum looks at my Dad."

And Hermione smiled bitter-sweetly. So, it was true, it wasn't just some schoolgirl crush. She had figured this when the feeling of flutters and dreams hadn't vanished after fourth year, and just seemed get stronger each passing year—week—day, but it felt so different hearing it confirmed by her friend. She played with her bag, and looked down at the ground. Of course, the very idea was impossible, she knew it, but it didn't make the small ache go away.

Ginny patted her shoulder and gave her a little smile. "Don't worry about it for now. You've got bigger problems on ya plate." Hermione nodded and nibbled on her slick fingers after the chocolate was gone.

...

Minerva looked through the clothing the two Gryffindor had been at just moments before. She smiled slightly and looked through the selection. For some reason none of them grasped her as something Hermione would wear, ones that were too flamboyant and others well, others seemed just too heavy for the young woman in the hot months of summer. Her eyes casually over the racks, and she saw a little picture, she narrowed her eyes and looked closely. It was an odd looking shirt designed in the picture on the wall, but… it seemed just the thing Hermione would wear.

"Excuse me," she called the tailor to her who was working to handle the measuring tape. "I wonder if you could help me," and she walked with him to the picture and began her plans with the creation.

...

Hermione walked up the stairs to the Girls Dorm slowly, she was tired and exhausted from detention and a rowdy bunch of first-years kids who hadn't fully realized the hexes placed on the books to stop such recklessness. She yawned and glanced around, only three of her dorm mates were there, and all of those three had already gone to bed.

After she changed, giving a few soft grunts of effort to take her shirt off and was relieved when she got into her loose, comfy pajamas. She plopped onto her bed and heard a crackling, surprised, she jumped up again and looked down at her bed, there, now wrinkled was a box. Hermione picked it up and looked at it oddly, it wasn't her birthday, or any holiday—Wizard _or_ Muggle. It was a box wrapped in royal blue paper and a pretty golden ribbon was wrapped about it. It was almost too pretty to open, but curiosity got the best of her, she pulled the ribbon and it fell in a silky pool to the bed. Then unwrapped the paper, and opened the lid of the box.

She was surprised at its contents and lifted up the first item in the box, it was a shirt, a pretty, yet simple thing of light lavender and a little white collar. She tilted her head a little, trying to figure who would get her something like this, then she put it to the side and pulled out another shirt, and another and another. Each piece of clothing was exactly the style she wore on a daily basis, only slightly bigger to accommodate a growing tummy and breasts.

Then, the last one really made her gasp. She gently pulled it from the box and looked at it. It was a blue, almost as dark as the wrapping paper, it was traditional Wizard robes, she could tell that, but there was something unique about it. She loved it, the sleeves were long, but not absurdly so, it was modest, but the chest was slightly exposed, and most importantly it was light so she wouldn't die of heat when wearing it. She smiled, and wondered who had gotten her these.

Meanwhile, a gray tabby cat with square markings around the eyes watched its handy-work from its perch. It gave an invisible smile, emerald eyes piercing the darkness unnoticed to stare fondly at the happily surprised young woman. It stayed still for a while longer, attempting to drink up as much as she could of the view of her unrequited love. After the chance of being caught grew when Hermione turned, obviously feeling the presence of another, she bounced silently down, and trotted down the stairs, making sure to stay in the shadows.

She rather liked seeing that expression on Hermione's face, she made a note to do this again sometime.

...

* * *

Authors note: You all better be very pleased, this took till 4. :) REVIEW it makes me happy!


	11. Chapter 9

The summer holidays were fast approaching, students were abuzz with energy, and planning their summer vacation. Well, not all the students. Harry, Ron and Hermione stood in a bookshop looking for pregnancy guides. Due to their… 'situation' they had been allowed to floo over to Diagon Alley, along with Hagrid of course. Hermione was looking through the titles, thoroughly enjoying herself even though the books she intended to buy weren't of her usual tastes.

Harry, and Ron however were having a hard time trying to figure out just what kind of pregnancy book to buy, there was one for average Witch, one of average Wizard (yes, separate) but also one for half-bloods, and then another for pure-bloods, and another for one type and another for another type! Quite frankly, they were stumped. They knew Hermione was Muggleborn; but there wasn't a single one that had references to Muggleborn mothers.

Hermione looked over the titles, and one book jumped out at her. Literally, the book jumped out of its place and into her hands. She was a little surprised at first but quickly got over it, she gently opened it up looked at the contents and skimmed through it. It seemed to be a book all about magical births, health and turned without taking her eyes off the paper as she started down the stairs.

Harry and Ron were arguing between themselves about this or that, when Hermione thrust the huge book into Ron's arms emitting an, "_oof_" from his lips. Hermione smiled at their odd looks and went about to look for more books. Hagrid stepped into the bookstore, and looked at the boys. Before he could even ask, they answered. "She's still looking."

By the time Hermione had gotten all the books she needed, she had easily spent forty galleons and seven sickles. And had spent half of the time they had been given. The poor boys had to carry all of the books, although Hagrid decided to be nice and take it off of them after walking for a while. They used the last of the time to look through some stores for pleasure, while Hermione sat with Hagrid and read through a book and a half.

When they returned to Hogwarts, they went off, and asked Hagrid to drop the books off at Hermione's bed. Hagrid agreed only because the two boys were running late and Hermione had an appointment with Poppy. He walked along the corridors, saying friendly greetings to the students who waved at him and ran off. He was almost at the portrait when he noticed that Professor McGonagall was idly standing at the portrait, her arms crossed over her chest angrily and her foot tapping.

"Professor McGonagall," Hagrid said, walking next to her. She turned her head and looked at him, and blinked once.

"What are you doing back?" she asked.

"Well, classes 're 'bout to start, ain't they?" He said, confused. "You said to bring 'em back before that."

Minerva sighed and rubbed her temples with her left hand, "Has it been that long? Where the bloody hell is The Fat Lady!" she groaned, almost a growl as her eyes screwed shut and her jaw set. Hagrid glanced over and noticed that the Fat Lady wasn't in her usual post.

"Probably visiting Violet down by the Great Hall," Hagrid said. "Want me to get 'er?" Minerva was about to answer when a familiar fat lady with curly black hair in a silk pink dress walked back into the frame and sat down.

"Oh, Professor McGonagall, hope you weren't waiting too long dear." The Fat Lady said with a smile, and Minerva glared at her. Minerva hissed the password to her and she opened the door with some mutter or another. Minerva strode into the common room, with Hagrid quickly following. Minerva had begun to stomp up to the girls dorms when Hagrid called after her.

"Professor, you wouldn't happen to know which bed is Miss Granger's, would ya?" Hagrid asked, walking behind her. Minerva stopped and looked at him sharply, seeing he had been following her.

"Yes, why do you ask?" Minerva eyed him, her emerald eyes getting slits in them.

"Well, ya see, she had ta be going down to Madam Pomfrey, so she asked me to drop these books off at 'er bed for when she got back." Hagrid lifted the pile of books slightly in emphasis and Minerva looked the books over and smiled a little.

"Ah, I see. Yes, follow me." Minerva moved swiftly up the rest of the stairs and Hagrid followed, ducking his head when they got to the entrance. Minerva motioned over to Hermione's bed and he set the large pile down with a sigh.

"Well, I'll be off now." Hagrid said, giving a little nod to Minerva and he left, his footsteps she could hear until he was well out of the common room, and she shook her head slightly.

Minerva made sure no one would be coming into the room anytime soon before she took something from her pocket and her wand. She placed the small square on Hermione's bed and pointed her wand at it.

"_Engorgio," _she spoke and the red and gold wrapped present enlarged back into its normal size and just to be safe, she whispered another charm, to make sure that none of the other inhabitants of the room would be able to open it. She smiled for a brief moment before hearing someone coming up the stairs. She quickly transfigured and hid underneath one of the beds. Two pairs of legs walked through the entrance and to their beds, the sounds of plopping bags and books, then chatting.

"Look at that, it seems know-it-all has another present."

"Yeah, she's been getting them a lot lately; I wonder who her boyfriend is."

"Probably Weasley,"

"Come on, him? Seriously, he wouldn't be that sweet."

"Oh how would you know?"

"I know because besides him being a bit of a wanker, he certainly couldn't place such a strong protection spell on his presents—or would even bother."

Minerva didn't bother listening to anymore. If she could have scoffed, she would have, she really did hate gossiping schoolgirls. She waited until they were too engrossed on talking about boys until she darted out, totally unnoticed down the stairs and through the empty common room and through the mid open portrait whole. She just barely made it before it closed, almost landing it right on her tail. She trotted over to the corner then turned back into her human form, brushing off her slightly messed hair and robes.

When was the last time any of them cleaned under their beds, for goodness sake?

She sneezed and sniffled, and made her way to her class.

...

Hermione sat up and looked over at Madam Pomfrey, "So, how is it today?"

"Perfect, dear. Although, I still want to be cautious—same rules, no butterbeer or stressful spell casting, understand?" Hermione nodded in response. "Good. I want to see you again in three weeks, just to check up on you and the baby." Madam Pomfrey smiled. Hermione nodded again and slipped off of the hospital bed. Funny, she always seemed to use the same one. Just as she was about to leave, a question stopped her. "Do you want to know who the father is?"

Hermione swallowed thickly and thought. Did she really want to know? Could she really know? Would it change things? She took a breath and turned back to Madam Pomfrey.

"Alright," Hermione said softly. Curiosity had won out in the end and Madam Pomfrey smiled and motioned over to a spot in the Wing.

...

"I don't know how Mum will react when she gets that letter," Ron said after sending Errol off with the letters from both him and Professor McGonagall about the situation. Harry sat back in one of the fluffed chairs of the warm Common room and looked back at his book. He had a five inch parchment book report to write, and the distractions of the day had been pushing him further and further away from it—he would be lucky if he even got half of the chapter finished. Ginny laid sprawled across one of the couches on the left of Harry. Crookshanks had made himself quite at home on her stomach and her hand had been rubbing his ear for about fifteen minutes straight now.

"She'll go bonkers for a week or two and then get excited about getting a grandkid." Ginny said with a small grin, "Hopefully she'll get it before summer vacation starts, Ron."

"Shut up," Ron said with a mumble, slumping over his homework—since he had nothing better to do.

"Speaking of which," Harry spoke up, "are you sure your parents won't mind me staying over for the summer?"

"Of course not, Harry!" Ginny said quickly before Ron could speak. "She'd love another person to cook for." Ginny grinned when Harry and Ron both let go of current worries for a little and laughed. All in good fun they rambled on about the past, and memories of the Burrow, and what it would be like this year.

Meanwhile during this conversation, Hermione stood by idly and listened to her friend's all speak about how much fun they were going to have and what they would do, and she held herself slightly. In a way, she felt a little better, she could imagine her baby curl to meet her arms, and she closed her eyes. She had nowhere to go for the summer months, and no one but Filch and Hagrid ever stayed in the castle for the summer.

Once the thought of a lonely summer entered her mind, she felt even more depressed then she usually would. She walked into the common room, past the group, ignoring their greetings and walked up the stairs to her dorm room. Ginny, Ron and Harry looked at each other, confused. Was it something they said?

...

Hermione walked swiftly into the room, thankful no one else seemed to be there, she took herself to her bed and was going to fall onto it when she saw a pretty wrapped present waiting for her, her secret admirer had struck again. She smiled a little and wiped away the tears that had been coming down her face. She had no idea who would have a crush on her, her, the unpretty pregnant know-it-all girl of sixth year. But, it never hurt to get a gift. She moved to the present and sat down next to it, looking it over briefly before lifting it into her lap and unwrapping it.

Inside it was a tin of Ginger Newts—which she had been craving for almost a week but no one in Hogsmeade seemed to have them (go figure)—a tiny bag of colorful sweets, she wasn't quite sure of what but they tasted heavenly, a book of poems by the Muggle poet William Shakespeare—she thought for a little while of who would know Muggle poets and which she liked then went back to the box—and a pair of slippers. But what really made her squeal like a prissy schoolgirl was the new book of her favorite book series that hadn't even been released yet. Who in Merlin's name could possibly have connections like that?

Now she really wished she knew who was giving her all this; she would have at least liked to thank the person. But whoever it was obviously hadn't been expecting a thank-you if they were being so secretive about it. So she leaned up against one of her many pillows on her headboard, nibbled on her sweets and ginger newts and read from her new book.

...

Under one of the (clean) beds, a certain kitty watched with a secret smile and a fluttering heart. It seemed that her beloved had quite enjoyed the gifts. She would have to thank her friend for getting her the book. Minerva trotted off, knowing that the witch was too enthralled in her book to notice the world around her. Down the stairs she happily strolled, purring loudly in glee. As she walked into the common room, she looked back and forth. It surprised her that only a few choice students were able to pick her out from your everyday average gray tabby. Her ears twitched, and she snapped her attention to the orange colored cat staring right back at her.

They glared at each other for a long while, no reason really, other then each was on the others preverbal 'turf'. Finally, Crookshanks seemed to loose interest in the battle and settled for cleaning himself primly, almost a snobbish aura about him. She could feel her annoyance run deep, and moved along on her way, she had more important things to do then fight a silly battle with self-proclaimed nobility.

...

Hermione was still engrossed in her book when she felt the bed shift and a furry paw placed firmly on her foot. She wiggled her toes a little and moved her foot away.

"Not now, Crookshanks," Hermione said, her eyes widening as the climax of the whole book was coming in a swirl of black and white words and sentences, all painting a vivid, amazing picture in her mind as she read. She was getting chills and a thrill just turning the page to see what was next! Her eyes danced along the page with the words, every now and then reaching blindly for the tin to retrieve a new ginger newt to chew on. She dusted off her hand and flipped the page. What she saw confused her.

_Unknowing of the lover that had just stepped up onto the bed, the brunette witch did vigorously read her novel in a passionate haze, words and paragraphs morphed in intellectual mind to form a cinema of magic and amazement. But that would not stop the desire which called the witch's lover to her. That begged her, seduced her. Gentle tongue trailed by a tight young thigh, until there was nothing left but to moan._

Just then, she felt something pushing the book up, and away, she looked down and she was not wearing a single article of clothing. She gasped, a light, sandpaper feeling was trailing up her exposed thigh, and she let out a moan when it came into her heat. She noticed how wet she was, and tilted her head. When had that happened? She gasped and arched her back, a feline's tongue coming into contact with her sex, licking up the slick slit and over the swollen clit. Her eyes snapped down to the intruder, and she couldn't believe her eyes.

She knew those eyes, that gray fur with square markings around the eyes, and that shape.

"Minerva!" she gasped again, her eyes barely able to keep open as another lick caused her to tremble. "W-w-what are you doing?" she shivered and her hips bucked. Her brown eyes fluttered closed and her breath hitched, she could feel the tongue slither into her briefly before her slit was licked again. She felt two arms encircle her and she looked up quickly, straight into the face of a human Minerva. Hermione's mind raced, two Minerva's, how was that possible? She didn't know of a spell that could… "AH!" she felt that wet, hot mouth attach itself to her vulnerable neck. Her breath came in pants and her eyes rolled in back of her head. The pleasure was overwhelming, intoxicating, she couldn't get enough!

Her hands grasped the loose ebony locks of the one who pleasured her and she tugged, forcing that wondrous mouth to stay at her neck.

"'Mione," she heard, and groaned. Her back arched when the human Minerva's hand trailed down her body to her soaking heat, the cat Minerva moved slightly aside to grant entrance. "Hermione, wake up!"

Her mind was foggy, wake up? She was already awake. She felt one last kiss and lick placed on her body then they pulled away and vanished. No! Where did they go?

"Hermione!" her body was shaken with such force she nearly toppled out of the bed. She covered her stomach instinctively and caught herself using her free hand.

"Ron, be careful, you almost hurt her!" Ginny snapped and went to Hermione's side. "Are you alright?" Hermione nodded a little and looked around, then at the bed were her book lay and the ginger newt she had only half eaten before falling asleep.

"I'm just… wow… fine." Hermione stood up, a little shaken that her dream had felt so real. She blushed heavily when she moved her legs and noticed that she was almost soaking wet and she could even smell her own arousal. She was thankful no one else seemed to notice.

"Dinner's soon, we've been trying to get you up for hours." Harry said. Hermione looked at them a little oddly for a second.

"How did you two get up here, anyway?"

"Funny thing really," Ron said, "It turns out, if you walk about one or two steps behind a girl, the spell that turns the stairs into a slide doesn't work," he seemed genuinely surprised, and a little miffed he hadn't known this little factor earlier. Harry simply nodded in agreement, and Ginny shrugged. Hermione was getting more and more frustrated the longer she had that vivid dream in her mind and untaken 'care of.'

"Well, you two better get back down right now before someone catches you. Ginny, would you mind terribly taking them back? Go head off to dinner, I'll be down in a little bit. Save me a seat." Hermione said, and the three left, a little perplexed at Hermione's red face. When they had gone out of sight she quickly climbed back into bed under the covers, and bit her lip as her hand moved into her pants and she finished what her dream lover had started.

...

Minerva had settled a rather large fight between the Professors, staff and even a few ghosts about what to do with the whole child situation, some wanted to force the girl into an abortion, others for her to leave the school, and others for an adoption and only four Professors had wanted her to do what she had in her heart (not including herself). She had made it quite clear to all involved whatever happened would be Hermione's choice and hers alone.

She rubbed her temples, oh what a day. She carried a book in her arm, _The Muggleborn Witches and Wizard guide to magical pregnancy._

It had been a pain to get, one would think with all the Muggleborn witches and wizards they would be in high demand, but alas, they were not, this was the only book she was able to find on the matter, actually. She reached the portrait where she said the password and entered. She wanted to give the younger witch the book before dinner, and before she had to sort through a mountain of paperwork.

She glanced around, and noticed that it was empty, she thought briefly if Hermione had already left for dinner with her friends. Minerva shrugged a little to the empty room. She'd just leave it on her bed then with a note telling her who it was from. She climbed the stairs, and smiled a little at the thought of Hermione's grateful and gleeful expression earlier, and she was giddy that she could cause such a response.

She almost giggled, but a strong scent hit her dead on when she neared the door to the dorm, she almost fell backwards down the stairs. It was unlike anything she had ever smelled before, it was pleasant and potent and sweet and salty. And, yet, it smelled like a little familiar, and it made her tingle in excitement. Forcing herself to calm down, she cautiously entered the room, and glanced around. No one was there, but the scent was definitely coming in the area. She walked in and placed the book on Hermione's bed, when she noticed, that the smell was strongest there.

Then she remembered. She had smelled this intoxicating scent before, when she and Hermione had slept in that hospital bed, when Hermione had…

Minerva's face and neck flushed a scarlet red and envied the colors painted on the walls and banner. Merlin, was it really that strong or was it just her senses kicked into overdrive? She closed her eyes, and savored it, got a small high from it. She sat on the bed. If she focused, it was almost like Hermione was in the room with her, sprawled out on the bed next to her, naked, warm, and aroused. Asking sweetly for something she couldn't possibly want.

Minerva's eyes snapped open and she took a trembling breath, her hands were gripping her robes so tightly it was possible she could have worn a hole into them. She didn't have time for this, she was supposed to be at dinner. She stood up tall and straight, and forced her abused and teased desires down into the blackest part of her mind, where it lit up like a torch. She would save this feeling, remember this scent for later, when she was alone in her private rooms.

She started to walk, but paused. Lingering in the air was the scent of a boy, two boys, boys that did not belong in the Girls dorm and her heart sank.

Potter and Weasley! She growled. How dare they? Had they been the source of this arousal within Hermione? Were they the ones who caused her such pleasure? The idea angered and hurt her. She quickly walked off down the stairs, through the common room and down the hall to the Great Hall.

...

Hermione was all giddy smiles, she had taken care of what she needed to and had changed into a new (dry) pair of knickers and was feeling happier than ever. Now this is the kind of sex she imagined between two people, a pleasure filled, satisfying fuck—that's what she enjoyed, even if she had to do it all by herself. Hermione sighed happily and rested her chin her palm. She hadn't been that wet since… well, forever! That orgasm that raked through her body had been one of the strongest in her life, and the glow about her was indisputable.

She felt Ginny nudge her. "Oy, you better stop being so obvious." She whispered. "Or else Ron and Harry are going to find out."

Hermione blushed slightly and whispered to her. "About that… suddenly, I've been thinking I should tell them."

Ginny seemed surprised, "You serious?"

Hermione nodded a little and fiddled with her napkin. "It might just be my mood swings again, but, you know how Ron keeps trying to get with me? I just want him to know I'm not interested, that I like someone else." She shrugged a little, and looked over at the two boys who were talking about Quidditch or something. "I'm afraid they won't want to be friends with me anymore, though."

Ginny patted her hand and held it. "Listen, mate, Ron's pride might be hurt a bit but he'll get over it. And if he doesn't, well, then he's not a very good friend. We love ya, 'Mione. And whatever ya feel or who ya feel it for shouldn't matter. We're here for ya." She smiled reassuringly. Hermione smiled back, and then looked back at her secret love.

She remembered the bath, how Minerva had looked without all the robes and the tight bun… without student-professor professionalism. She smiled fondly, and a blush came to her cheeks.

...

Minerva, for all her grief, was trying her best not to notice that glow about her student, or the fact that said student was staring off with a smile. She tried not to think of the scent of arousal, or the scent of two boys she found she was growing to hate once more. When would enough be enough, they had already knocked her up, why did they continue to go after her? Minerva sighed heavily and played with her food, she suddenly wasn't hungry.

...

Hermione smiled at her friends, who looked at her funny.

"What's wrong with you?" Ron asked. Hermione had been looking up at the table where the Professors sat, staring at a certain Headmistress with dreamy loving eyes as they walked towards the door. Ron looked a little bit, trying to see where she was staring.

Ginny giggled and grinned. "She's staring at her crush, Ron." Hermione looked at her with a bright face and Ginny smiled. "What? You were going to tell them tonight."

"Yes, but not now!" Hermione hissed, but continued to smile. Ron and Harry looked at each other then to Hermione. Hermione blushed at the attention even harder and fiddled with her hands.

"You have a crush on someone?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Yeah," Hermione said softly and shyly, like a little girl. "Kinda." Ginny gently nudged her to go on, there wasn't anything to be embarrassed about. "I'll tell you later."

And they walked in silence up until they reached an abandoned corner of the common room, in hushed tones they spoke.

"So, spill 'Mione." Ron said first, wanting to know which guy had upstaged him. "Who is it?"

"Well gee aren't we forward?" Hermione said with a roll of her eyes. Harry and Ginny laughed softly as Ron made a face.

"Come on, Hermione, you can't very well blame us, can you?" Harry asked, sitting down near Ginny, who seemed to brighten even more. "I thought there wasn't a single person who could live up to your standers—oh, no offence."

"None taken," Hermione said with a smile, her damn mood swings were making it hard for her to correctly answer. She settled down in a comfy part of her chair, and played with a loose thread of the upholstery. "Well, I… that is… oh…"

"Oh come on, 'Mione, what are you going to make them guess?" Ginny said, and Hermione sat up straight with an idea.

"Yes! That's a great idea, Ginny. They'll guess we'll play twenty questions!" Hermione seemed mad, her grin had gone from ear to ear and her eyes twinkled with mischievousness. It freaked the other three out a little to be honest.

"That's not really what I meant, mate." Ginny said with a little giggle. "Okay, let's see if you can guess."

"Wait—don't tell me you already know, too!" Ron said, and Ginny nodded with a prideful grin.

"I figured it out myself—awhile ago, your turn."

"Alright, let's start." Hermione snuggled in comfortable into her spot, a little surprised at herself for actually setting this up, but too giddy to care. She started the game.

...

Minerva moved as fast as she could. The weeks had passed and she knew Madam Pomfrey would have been able to tell the identity of the Father. It bothered her not knowing, perhaps it was from Juvenal excitement for another woman's first child, maybe it was nerves from which of the boys would have a better chance with Hermione, or maybe it was from fear that her dream could very well come true.

Either way, she simply had to know. She opened the doors to the Wing, and searched for Poppy.

"Minerva, what are you doing here so late?"

"I need to know."

"Need to know what?" Poppy was more then a little confused at Minerva's determination.

"Who is it?"

Then it made sense and Poppy sighed, and motioned for her to sit down.

...

"Brown hair or blonde hair?" Ron asked. It was their fourth question and his second. So far, the two had gotten_, Taller than Hermione,_ _Green Eyes, Different year._

"Neither," Hermione said with a small giggle. She was having more fun then she thought she would, yes, this was the best way to tell them. The two boys huddled over the year book, mumbling and muttering to each other. Ginny now laid with Hermione, her red head resting in Hermione's lap and her hand on top of the other witch's knee. She mouthed the word 'black' to the boys, and Hermione caught her and playfully swatted her arm, "No hints, you."

"Black hair?" Harry asked with smile.

"Cheater! Yes." Hermione grinned and petted Ginny's head as if she were Crookshanks, which got the real Crookshanks who sat on the back of the couch slightly jealous. "Black, gorgeous hair, it looks so soft and…"

"Alright, alright, too much," Ron waved his hand and Ginny laughed.

"Ya two got fifteen left," Ginny said. "Make 'em count."

Ron and Harry continued to look through the yearbook.

"What house is he in?" Ron asked, and Hermione shook her head.

"Too vague a question, Ronald, have a compete, straightforward question." Hermione said. "Don't worry I wont count that as one."

Ron murmured, and Harry muttered, they didn't want to use up four questions, so they settled on the basics.

"Does he have he have buck teeth?"

"No,"

"Fourteen."

"Does he have a big nose?"

"No," Hermione said as she thought of Minerva's profile. A silly smile appeared on her face when she thought of her crush, Harry pointed accusingly.

"Aha! You're thinking about him, aren't you?" Harry had a grin on his face, he was enjoying the game probably more then he should have. And Hermione blushed, maybe the hormones were going around to everyone and not just her. Ron shoved him a little for using up one of their questions.

"Twelve."

"Does he wear glasses?"

"Yes."

"Is he fat or thin?"

"Thin."

They continued to flip through the pages, and Hermione and Ginny both found it funny they had passed Hermione's crushes picture almost four times.

"Nine."

"Okay, okay, um, is he white or dark?"

"White," Hermione said with another silly grin, thinking of what of Minerva's body she had seen. Oh yes, a lovely white with dark...

"Is does he play Quidditch?"

"No," Hermione said, after all she didn't anymore. Or did she? She'd have to ask. Harry and Ron looked at the pages.

"Not on a house team, wonder if he likes it at all?"

"Who doesn't love Quidditch?" Ron asked, "Don't be stupid." Hermione rolled her eyes a little but smiled. They went on like this for hours. The boys used their questions sparingly until they were left with a list of what Hermione's dream man looked like.

_Tall, thin, black hair, green eyes, strong nose, white, wears glasses, no tattoos, no scars, different year, and doesn't play Quidditch._

It was late so they parted, and the boys were having more fun then the girls on this. Hermione smiled and Ginny yawned, "Do you think they'll ever guess?"

"No, not if they keep looking through the boys." Hermione giggled and they went to their beds to sleep. She found the book on her bed that Minerva had left and smiled sweetly. She would have to thank Minerva in the morning. She climbed into bed, and the prospect of where she was going to stay for the summer came back to her, damping her hormone induced mood. She fingered the blanket that she had drawn up to her nose, and thought for a long while. Perhaps Minerva would have a suggestion, or maybe Ginny would invite her to stay at the Burrow too—provided their mother hadn't killed her when she found out she slept with her son. (More like sons because she considered Harry a son, too.)

She turned over in her bed, and closed her eyes, gently rubbing her tummy in a little gesture of caring towards her child. "Goodnight, baby." She whispered and fell asleep.

.

* * *

Authors note: Yeah I know a little Hermine/Ginny fluffyness but meh, I do that with my friends all the time-twenty questions can be a tiring game :p Gonna go sleep now.


	12. Chapter 10

It was of no surprise when the week had passed, Ron, Harry and received no less than two howlers from Molly and Arthur Weasley, (mostly directed at Ron.) Hermione had only received one but it was enough to make the poor girl break down in tears in the middle of lunch (no thanks to her mood swings). The summer Holidays were just two days away, people were getting excited and gleeful, speaking how they would have or how boring it would be and had already packed their bags.

Just one person in the whole of Hogwarts was not pleased of the summer vacation: Hermione. She sat quietly as Ginny, Ron, Harry, and the other Gryffindors talked about vacation, idly at her food. Ginny noticed this, and gently nudged Hermione's side.

"Oy, what's wrong?" Ginny asked. A small frown formed on her face when she saw just how sad Hermione looked.

"What? Oh, nothing," Hermione said with a little smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'm just a little tired, I guess."

"Listen, I'm sorry about that Howler my mum sent ya."

"I deserve it really; after all I'm the one responsible for this mess." Hermione twirled her food around her fork slowly, and then put the utensil down. Ginny shook her head and placed a hand over hers.

"It's not all your fault there are many people and things to blame, but either way it doesn't make it go away, so there's no point in being upset over it. Now eat something, will ya? Or do you want Madam Pomfrey to shove the food down your throat in the Hospital Wing?" Ginny grinned when Hermione stuck her tongue out at her and then nibbled on a piece of bread.

"Say, Hermione, where are you staying during vacation?" Harry asked suddenly, turning his attention to the slightly stunned brunette.

"I… don't know." Hermione said softly and nibbled on her bread nervously. Harry looked a little confused, as did Ron, since Hermione always had a place to go during the summer. "The house has already been revoked and sold. All the belongings I had there are God knows where. I have no other family to stay with and I can't afford to pay for a room for months and buy new supplies when I come back to Hogwarts in September." Hermione shrugged and put the bread crust down onto her plate. Ginny and Ron looked at each other, then back at Hermione.

"Why not stay at with us?" Ron asked. He was trying so hard to hide his excitement over the idea. Hermione smiled sadly and shook her head, to which he frowned at, "Why not?"

"Your Mum would kill me for sure." Hermione said. "I'd rather finish my seventh year."

"Oh, no, she wouldn't," Ginny said with a little scoff. Hermione sighed and shook her head again, picked at a thread on her robe and lowered her head a little.

"I don't want to be a burden or cause chaos. No, I'll just stay at the castle for the summer," Hermione said, then looked up with a smile. "But I want you all to write me, alright? Every week—I mean it." They laughed a little at her pleading, yet serious tone and they agreed, even Ron, who normally wouldn't write at all. The rest of lunch passed, and they all headed out to Quidditch.

During the game, Hermione hardly paid attention to Ginny, Ron and Harry as they zoomed about on their broomsticks. Her thoughts were on what books she could read and reread during the summer and notes on when she could sneak off to Hogsmeade for sweets and other cravings. She didn't notice a pair of eyes across the field looking at her instead of the game, either.

…

Minerva lit the candles in the room and sat on her desk, facing the portrait of the Former Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, her old employer and her once lifelong friend. She waited until he returned to his frame after a match of some type of game with the Drunk Monks. Poker, was it?

"Ah, Minerva, I didn't expect to see you," Albus said, although his painted eyes had a twinkle that said otherwise. Minerva smiled and rested her legs on her chair, although an unusual position for her she found it was the most comfortable to talk to Albus who was directly behind and above her head. "How are you?"

"I'm fine Albus, how was… um, Poker?"

"Fun, as always; Those Drunk Monks can't tell a two from an eight." Albus chuckled and looked down at his still living friend. He already knew about the situation; what had happened, how it happened, and he was not at all surprised. He knew firsthand how victory parties could go; he fondly remembered the victory party back in 1945 when the Dark Lord that had terrorized the Wizarding world before Voldemort. His eyes twinkled for a moment more, as if he knew something else. "How is our Miss Granger?"

"She's suffering from intense mood swings. But Poppy gives her a clean bill of health."

"She always _was_ an overachiever." Albus smiled and Minerva resisted rolling her eyes, and simply let out sigh as gazed up at her friend.

"Summer vacation is only two days away, now. All the students are dying to get out of here." Minerva smiled a little, remembering her days as a schoolgirl. Albus looked at her expectantly, to which she raised an eyebrow in question. "What?"

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Did you invite her to stay with you?" Minerva stiffened for a moment, and pulled out a tartan bin, retrieving a ginger newt from it. "You didn't, did you?"

Minerva had consulted the idea over, and over again, wondering if it was appropriate to invite a student home with you during the summer. Of course, it was not unheard of—it wasn't often and wasn't done in years—but it wasn't exactly forbidden. This was a special case of though, an extremely delicate and unique case. The student to be invited was four months pregnant, orphaned, and the source of the strongest feelings she could ever recall having towards a single being before in her life.

"You say it like it's an everyday occurrence." Minerva muttered. "Oh, Albus, how can I ask her such a thing? Why would she want to spend four months with me?"

"You're her favorite teacher, that's one reason. Another is you are her friend, and you bring her comfort. And you have one of the largest collections of books I have ever seen." Albus said with a grin. Minerva simply nibbled on her ginger newt with a look that could kill…if he weren't dead already. "If she spends those months with you, you may get a chance to tell her."

Minerva almost choked on her biscuit.

"I have no idea what you're talking about!" Minerva started defensively, but Albus just shook his head, showing he wasn't going to feign ignorance anymore. Minerva lowered her head ever so slightly in embarrassment and defeat. "How long did you know?"

"Long enough," Albus smiled. "Go invite her, if not for your sake for hers, she'll be bored to death if she stays at the castle—she's probably read every book in the library!"

Minerva smiled shyly and nodded. She'd do it; she'd make the first move. It would be up to Hermione whether or not to grant the pleasure of her company for the summer months or to stay in the hot castle, or go with her friends. Minerva wished so badly she could hug her friend, and her eyes watered. "You have no idea how much I miss you."

"Don't miss me, I'm right here, Min." Albus said with a bright smile and popped a lemon drop in his mouth. Minerva laughed a little and smiled at him, "Lemon drop?" he offered.

"No thank you," Minerva said with a slight smirk.

Hermione sighed as she lay back in her bed. Ron, Harry, and Ginny were all sitting on the bed with her. They were playing twenty questions again, this time about Ginny's crush, to which of course Hermione knew. Her head was in Ginny's lap, her hands rested on her swelling belly and her legs sprawled over Ron's lap. She felt something pushing up against her leg but she was too tired to register what it was. Harry sat on the edge of the bed with the yearbook and he put his hand on Hermione's belly.

"I still can't believe there's a person inside of you, 'Mione." Harry said, almost in a small daze. Hermione smiled at the expression, and the game took a pause when Ron decided he wanted to feel too.

"Well if you're still in denial by next month month, I'll let you feel when the baby kicks." She giggled and the three looked a little surprised. Hermione never really giggled. She made a face at them. "What? Oh, never mind. Anyway you two still have three questions." She poked Harry's ribs and gently kicked Ron's chest.

Soon the baby was forgotten as they continued playing the game.

"Does he have any siblings?"

"No," Ginny answered with a bright smile, and Hermione giggled again. They only glanced briefly at her this time. They were starting to get used to it.

"Two," Hermione said in a teasing tone.

"Okay, okay, make it a good one." Harry told Ron, who nodded and then thought. Before he could answer though, they all heard the sound of footsteps from the stairway.

Hermione lifted her legs quickly and the boys jumped up, scrambling to get under the invisibility cloak. Once underneath, there were a few grunts and harsh whispers as the two boys tried to cover up their still very visible legs. Ginny and Hermione watched the door anxiously, waving for the boys to shut up. By the time the intruder had gotten to their door, the boys had finally gotten themselves completely under the cloak.

McGonagall strode into the room, and looked curiously at the two girls. Perhaps from their position… but it may have been the fact Hermione was lousy when it came to acting.

Professor McGonagall had a curious sort of look on her face, one that Hermione couldn't really place, but that quickly turned to one of suspicion. The girls tried not to let the stare of their professor get to them. But then she sniffed, and her head instantly snapped around towards where, Hermione assumed, the boys were standing. She reached out her hand and grabbed, and the girls breathed a silent breath of relief when the older witch's hand met air.

…

Minerva was confused. She could have sworn she had just smelled those boys in the room… the scent was so strong it was as if they had been standing right next to her… Ah well, it wasn't important now.

"Miss Granger, I'd like to have a word with you… in private." Minerva said, and Hermione sat up. The girls exchanged looks, but Ginny nodded and got up to leave. She watched the young Weasley girl until she left the room. Once she was sure they were alone, she turned her attention back to Hermione, a faint smile gracing her face. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay," Hermione said, pushing herself up with her elbows to rest against the pillows. "What did you want to talk to me about?" Hermione didn't smile, but she didn't look uncomfortable or upset. Minerva thought briefly if she should wait, but it would be best to ask now then last minute.

"I was wondering what your plans were for the summer." Minerva walked to the bed and sat down on the edge. She could smell the scents of the boys strongly, it was getting her more frustrated the longer it lingers, though she didn't smell any of the arousal like before. It both slightly relieved and confused her… however, that would have to wait—Hermione seemed to become depressed the moment she mentioned summer. "What's wrong?"

"I was planning on staying at Hogwarts for the summer." Hermione said, "If that's alright."

"Hermione, even the teachers don't stay here for the summer." Minerva said, trying to ease into what she was about to ask. There was silence for a moment or so, and what came next from the younger woman's lips surprised her.

"Please…" Hermione's voice was so soft and frail, her head ever so slightly, her eyes pleading. "I don't have anywhere else to go. Please, can't I stay?"

Minerva was not used to this—she had never seen Hermione so… vulnerable. She carefully considered what she would say next; the last thing she wanted was to force the girl into anything.

"You'll be dreadfully bored if you stay here. There would be nothing for you to do." Hermione looked slightly defeated, and Minerva quickly continued, "Of course, if you really want to stay in the castle you may, but I was thinking perhaps… you may like to stay with me at McGonagall Manor?"

Hermione looked shocked, and her mouth hung opened a little and Minerva prepared a long list of reasons and good points to make her argument sound.

"I don't…"

"I have plenty of room. You could make yourself right at home." Minerva had shot off before Hermione could finish her thought. A little rude, but she didn't want Hermione to make her mind up just yet. "You wouldn't be a bother. The weather is usually nice, despite all the rain, certainly better than how Hogwarts can get."

"Okay,"

"And it's quiet and calm, and well to be perfectly honest it gets rather—wait, what did you say?" Minerva paused mid-sentence, had she actually heard a yes, or was it wishful thinking?

"I said Okay," Hermione said softly, and smiled a little. "I'd love to stay with you. It'd be a great honor, Minerva." She giggled, no doubt from Minerva's surprised expression. "Did you really expect me to say no to my favorite Professor?" and there was that flirty, teasing tone again. Minerva forced herself not to show how much that simple, subtle tone affected her.

"Well, then, make sure you pack tomorrow." Minerva said, trying to keep a neutral expression, yet she couldn't stop a smile from appearing on her lips. Hermione smiled brightly back at her—though the older witch assumed it was from joy of not having to stay at the castle. "We'll apparate to the Manor a wee bit on the late side, as I am one of the last teachers to leave the premises. That won't be a problem will it?"

"Is it safe? I mean, for, you know." Hermione yawned and her hand rested on her stomach. Minerva smiled at the concern by a mother for her child.

"It's safe for you both, I promise." she chuckled at Hermione's relieved, sleepy expression. Minerva glanced down at Hermione's swelling stomach. She had an almost overwhelming urge to touch the small lump where the baby resided, but she settled for looking up again to Hermione's eyes, which were half-lidded and dark with fatigue. "Go to sleep, dear, you have a busy day tomorrow."

Hermione didn't really move but gave a grunt of acknowledgement. When it was obvious that Hermione was just going to fall asleep where she was, Minerva pulled the blankets up, tucked her in, and fixed the pillows. Within the next second, Minerva could hear a soft snore and she smiled, brushing back a loose lock of hair behind her ear. "Sweet dreams."

And she left the room quietly, shutting the drapes to the girl's bed to block out the offending light.

When she got down the stairs, she caught Ron and Harry just taking off the invisibility cloak. Though she was too bring it to attention at that moment, she made a mental note to investigate how they were getting up the enchanted staircase.

…

"Is he from America?"

"No,"

"Are you _sure_ he goes to Hogwarts still?"

"_Yes."_

"Harry, don't use up our questions!"

"Sorry."

"Is he from England?"

"No, not that I know of,"

"Is he…"

"Guys, you're going to miss the train!" Hermione stood on the platform with Harry and Ron who had been playing "twenty (although at this point it was more like a hundred) questions" all the way through breakfast. Honestly, were they ten or sixteen? She tapped her foot impatiently at the immaturity of the two, and yet as annoying it was, it gave her a queer sort of comfort, knowing she still had some of her old personality hidden somewhere.

Harry and Ron looked at the train then back at her, as if they had just now noticed they were at the bloody thing.

"We'll play this little game in September. Now, off with you! Go on!" she smiled and hugged them both; ignoring the kiss placed on her cheek by a shy Ron, and waved to them as the train left the station.

Hermione turned and was a little surprised to come face to face with her Headmistress. Minerva looked at her a little oddly, but a smile was on her face. "Do you mind telling me what that was about?"

"Oh, just a little game we started a few nights ago," Hermione said dismissively, "they're trying to guess my crush. Anyway, I need to pack still, could we head back now?" the rest of the words came out in a rush and she didn't bother to wait for an answer as she started walking back towards the school

...

Minerva paused only a moment before following after the younger witch. She was pleasantly surprised to hear that Hermione's crush was not one of the two boys.

"You mean you don't like them?"

"No, I love them, but they're my best friends. I don't think they could ever be anything more, even with this… situation." Hermione said, looking down at her stomach with a small grimace then at the ground ahead her. Minerva nodded. She knew exactly what that was like from experience with Albus.

It was quite hilarious that for years and still to this day the humors of her and him being in a relationship were so strong. She wondered how the students would react if they found out Albus's 'personal' preference. Minerva inwardly laughed at imagined expressions on the shocked students face. She was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't notice where she was headed.

"Professor!"

Minerva looked up towards the sound, before walking right into a poll with a _clank_. She recoiled and held her face in shock. She looked at the iron poll in confusion. Then realization came, then unbelievable embarrassment. Her face had turned a shade darker, and she kneeled down to pick up her fallen spectacles, and tried her very best to avoid Hermione's gaze. She heard muffled sounds of laughter, and sighed. Well, she had managed to make a fool out of herself at least she did it when the students had already departed.

"Professor, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, and do call me Minerva, after all the school term has ended until September." Minerva said, trying to act as nonchalant as possible. She noticed her glasses lens had cracked and she tsked in annoyance. Before she could take out her wand, however, there was a spell spoken from her student's lips.

"_Oculus repairo_," and her glasses mended themselves in an instant, she looked up and smiled gratefully at Hermione's slightly blurred form, then slipped her spectacles onto her nose.

"Thank you."

"Anytime," Hermione smiled and walked to her side, her fingers brushed along the spot on Minerva's face that had collided into the metal. "Are you sure you're not hurt?" she sounded very concerned, and Minerva would have melted at the tender caress if she could have.

"I'm fine. The only thing I hurt was my pride." Minerva said, wincing just a tad when Hermione laughed, "Precisely."

"I'm sorry, but it _was_ funny." Hermione giggled. "But I'm just glad you're alright." Minerva tried not to find any hidden meaning under those words.

"Yes, I presume it would be awful for your host to fall and break her neck right before summer vacation." Minerva chuckled and Hermione made a little face before she laughed too. They two walked in comforting silence back to the castle and parted ways.

Both had the same, hidden butterflies as the time to leave came closer, both had hidden, foolish hopes for the upcoming months, both knew that the other would never return their feelings. Neither could stop the smiles on their faces, but neither would allow themselves anything more than the simple joy of company of a friend.

If they were going to be doomed to live in their lovesickness alone, they would do so with grace.


	13. Chapter 11

The moment they apparated into the large Manor, Hermione was awestruck, it was even more grand, yet homely then she expected. Everything was tidy, neat and clean despite the long absence of people within its walls; Hermione didn't know whether to pick up her jaw that was on the floor or shiver at the cold. She looked around the room that appeared to be the living room—wait, maybe den? She couldn't quite tell. She felt an arm brush against hers, a hand take her luggage for her.

"It is a bit much, isn't it, but everything's the same as when I was a child." Minerva said, and she started off, and flicked her wand and the lights turned on. The room was even lovelier in the light, or maybe it just seemed so lovely to her because this was where she would be spending so much time with her beloved Professor. Minerva was standing, her luggage floated behind her as she held Hermione's in her right hand. She looked like she was expecting something, and Hermione thought. It took a moment to realize she didn't know her way around. She composed herself and followed quickly.

They walked up a set of stairs up to the second floor, and Minerva looked at Hermione for a moment. "Would you prefer a room closer to the library or the bathroom?" at the mention of a library Hermione's eyes lit up and Minerva managed to hide her smile. She knew if given the choice, the girl would probably use the library as her bedroom. Hermione seemed to think for a moment, and then looked around the area.

"Where's your room?" Hermione asked casually. Had Minerva been in her animagi form, her ears would have perked up to the ceiling.

"It's the last door on your left." Minerva said, motioning over to the cherry-wood door next to a window with a lovely view of the McGonagall estate. Hermione looked at the doors, and, trying to be as close as possible and yet at the same time discrete, she choose the bedroom two doors down from Minerva's bedroom. Minerva opened the door and Hermione looked around it, it was painted lovely shades of orange, yellows and reds and little leafs were painted onto the moldings.

"For Autumn," Minerva had explained when Hermione stepped into the room, a little dumbfounded. When Hermione didn't say anything, she quickly added, "You can choose another room if this one doesn't suit you."

"No, it's cute." Hermione said with a smile, and Minerva felt horribly relieved. "You did all this?"

"Not exactly, the rooms here are enchanted to paint themselves depending on the season or holiday."

"Lovely," Hermione sighed and smiled at the walls, and was only a little surprised when the leafs painted on the walls swirled on the walls as an imaginary wind carried them across their painted world. Her fingers gently stroked the wall, and she giggled when the leafs swirled up to meet her touch. "Is the wall conscious?"

"I'm never sure," Minerva said with a slight smile. "But if they are, they seem to enjoy your company."

With that, Minerva put Hermione's luggage down onto the bed and gave a light sigh. She turned around to her student, who was having fun dragging her hand along the wall and watching the leaves chase her fingertips. Minerva watched the girl fondly, the smile on her face growing to probably one of the brightest and loving expression she had in years. She saw Hermione feel her gaze and quickly gained composure before Hermione's eyes rested on her.

"Do you need help unpacking?" Minerva asked, motioning over to the two bags and Hermione shook her head. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I can do it." Hermione said with a little smile and walked over to the bed. Minerva nodded a little, and she felt a little awkward when Hermione unzipped her bag and a pair of purple lace knickers fell out. Minerva quickly turned her back towards her student before she could see the blush on her Professor's face. Minerva quickly left.

"I'll have dinner served in an hour." Minerva mumbled before closing the door behind her and leaning heavily on it. Goodness, when had Hermione gotten those? Now all she could think of was Hermione dressed in them. No! No, no, she couldn't risk these dangerous thoughts with the girl so close, she calmed herself and walked down the stairs to the kitchen.

Although she had intended to make dinner, she found that she kept burning the food. It was unlike her, but then again, that lovely, distracting image kept ramming up in front of her thoughts. Minerva took a breath, and decided to call her house-elf to cook for her. She went to the library and sat heavily in one of the chairs, she would have to give the girl a tour soon.

Hermione blushed furiously when she saw the purple lace fall from her bag, Ginny and some other friends had bought them for her as a joke when she was 'with' Victor Krum. Of course she never used them with (in all sense of the word), but they came in handy when she needed to do laundry and had no clothing. She had a matching bra, which she wore much more often than the underwear. It was more comfortable than her other bras, in all honesty. It had a little padding which cushioned her now larger breasts gently. Of course, if she had known this earlier she wouldn't have spent so much money on those other bras.

All her clothes were put away into the large wardrobe, and her books placed on the small desk. She rather hoped Minerva wouldn't mind that she was making herself comfortable, and made a mental note to herself to ask if she could maybe conjure a chair for the desk. Her tummy roared and she jumped three feet in the air. No, really, it _roared!_

Hermione scrambled for the pregnancy book and quickly looked through the pages, and sighed in relief.

_For magical babies, it is not unusual for them to be a bit more assertive than Muggle babies when the mother or father has not eaten. It's best not to go without at the very least a little sweet to suck on, or your little one might get a little testy and voice his or her opinion on the matter. For me, it was a chicken squawk for my first, then a cat's hiss for my second. Perfectly harmless, but it does tend to get you in a bad mood._

Hermione nodded in self understanding, although it still startled her when a smaller, kinder yet firm roar came from her belly. She walked out of the door and down the stairs. She turned her head left and right, and tried to think of where a kitchen in a Manor would be. She settled for the left and walked, following the smell of food until she found the kitchen.

The house elf was just setting the table, and Minerva was smiling at the setting. Apparently, Hermione wasn't expected because Minerva looked up and she looked like she was startled.

"Hermione," she started, and Hermione felt very small.

"I just… I don't mean to rush or anything I was um, just wondering." Hermione rambled, praying her baby didn't make another roar. Unfortunately, her child had other ideas and a roar lingered in the air. Hermione's face turned as red as a tomato and she held her tummy, almost as if she was scolding the child for embarrassing her Mummy. Minerva looked slightly surprised, but a smirk played at the edges of her mouth.

"Come sit and eat," Minerva said and pulled out a chair for Hermione.

Dinner went smoothly, they chatted, laughed, included Minerva's house elf in the conversation a few times, to which the tiny thing brightened up like he felt he was ten feet tall. Obviously, Hermione's baby felt full because there was not a single roar or rumble from her stomach afterwards and Hermione sighed in content. The last thing she needed now was more embarrassment to pile onto her shoulders. When dessert came, Hermione felt elated, the evening had gone so wonderfully she didn't think of a single reason she had been nervous.

She was laughing so hard at a comment had made, she dropped her spoon and it bounced off the floor into an unknown location under the table. She went to bend over, then remembered the lump of her stomach and groaned. She was about to get out of her chair but Minerva stopped her.

"It's alright, I'll get it." Minerva said with a barely hidden smile at Hermione's expression. When Minerva bent over to lift the spoon up, her head arching to see under the cover and her arm reaching, Hermione got shivers down her spine at the extremely desired view of her beloved's cleavage. Hermione's breath caught her in throat and she couldn't help but stare, oh, she could see the black bra that Minerva was wearing. She was suddenly thankful that the spoon had been a little hard to find. When Minerva finally retrieved it after a few moments, she stood and the view had been lost from probing chocolate eyes.

Hermione felt like pouting, but forced her face to remain neutral as Minerva handed back her spoon.

Had it been her, or had she felt eyes upon her? Maybe that's why she pretended to look for the spoon when it was staring right at her, maybe that's why she bent a little more then was necessary, she just hoped Hermione hadn't noticed. Merlin that would be hard to explain to her student why she had given her that little show, hell she wasn't even sure if the girl had seen it much less cared.

The thought of Hermione enjoying the view was enough to send a little ripple of pleasure and victory through her.

The same way the thought of if Hermione had been disgusted made stomach sink in fear and hurt.

Minerva briefly had examined the younger woman's face for any hint to either, but there was none. It was probably because she hadn't cared and for some reason that also made her heart sink a little in relief and disappointment. She was looking too hard into things again, wasn't she? Hermione didn't seem to notice, and this caused a faint smile to grace her lips. Well, at least she could enjoy her company.

Now they were talking just as they used to, about magical laws and politics and spells, and most of all, transfiguration. This continued for hours, and neither had felt more awake then in this moment of pure conversational bliss. Minerva glanced at the clock briefly and almost spit out her drink, had they been talking that long? Poor Hermione must have been exhausted and here she was keeping her awake at this late hour.

"Alright, I think that's enough chatting for one night, my dear." Minerva said, standing from her comfortable spot next to Hermione on the couch. "I believe it's bedtime."

"Oh, just five more minutes, please? I'm not even…" Hermione tried to stop a yawn, but failed miserably, "…tired."

"Yes you are." Minerva said seriously, but she still had a faint smile. She helped the fast tiring pregnant woman to her feet and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, her other hand holding onto young protégé's as she lead her up the stairs and to her room. Hermione, too tired to do otherwise, rested her head on Minerva's shoulder. It was all too soon that they were outside Hermione's door, and Minerva opened it. Hermione was almost sleepwalking at this point, and it took a little more effort to get her to move to the large canopy bed.

"Hermione, can you get out of those clothes?" Minerva asked when Hermione sat on the bed, her eyes already closed. Hermione grunted, and Minerva smiled a little. Minerva went to the wardrobe and took out a random pajama shirt and pants then went back to Hermione's side and placed the clothes next to her. She knelt and took off the girl's shoes and socks, and paused when her hands came to Hermione's pants. _Maybe this was a bad idea—oh come off it Minerva. Just take a breath and get it over with. _

Minerva quickly changed Hermione out of her day clothes and into her pajama's, she was surprised at how easily it came to her, how simply she was able to slip off pants and shirts and replace them. She felt such awe and love at the calm and beautiful face of her love she barely even noticed the red underwear and bra. Minerva gently moved Hermione onto her side and tucked her in, smiling when she heard that lovely voice sigh in content and snuggle deeper into the blankets. "Sleep well, my dear." She said softly, tracing her hand along the girl's back gently. Minerva watched Hermione sleep a good five minutes before getting up and going to her own room. She would give the tour in the morning.

The first weeks passed easily and quickly, Minerva had given her a tour of the Manor and the estate, and she had saved the very best for last, three guesses what room that was.

When Hermione's eyes came into contact with the largest and brightest room in the house, and all the mountains of books neatly placed in the shelves, she was positively elated—even more so when Minerva told her she could read any of the collection, no restrictions, to her heart's content.

For the last few days, Minerva watched Hermione from her chair across the room. The younger woman was curled into a comfy lounge chair with a book in her lap, her eyes studying the page, word for word, savoring each sentence. It made her smile when Hermione would only stop reading to nibble on a ginger newt or a spoon full of ice cream. Had it really only been three weeks? It felt like they had been living together for years. Minerva briefly wondered if she should have scolded herself for using that delicate term, but her thoughts were broken when Hermione let out a loud yelp.

In an instant Minerva was on her feet and at Hermione's side. "What is it, Hermione? Are you alright?" Hermione had an odd expression on her face, confusion and amazement all in one. Hermione gave a little breath, and shook her head slowly.

"I don't know." Hermione whispered, and put her hand on her stomach. Minerva was worried, until she saw Hermione's had placed firmly on her stomach, and that confusion give way to wonder. "I think… I think it's moving."

"Goodness, with the way you cried I thought there was something wrong." Minerva breathed and smiled brightly, the worry vanished and she settled down on her knees in front of her guest. She watched Hermione's face in wonder, even though chocolate eyes were looking straight at her, it was like they were unseeing, that they didn't even register the woman before them. They were filled with happiness, unimaginable happiness, and Minerva had a small womanly ache within her that she could never experience the joy of having a child within her. Her eyes drifted to the swollen belly. Hesitantly her hand rose a little then pulled back. She was unsure if Hermione would appreciate an uninvited touch. She looked up again into eyes that were now looking intensely at her. "May I?" she asked with a soft voice, and she was answered with a big smile and a nod.

Minerva's hand gently ran over the clothed lump, and she gave a little gasp in unison with Hermione as the little baby inside kicked forcefully. Minerva's mouth curved into a silly smile, and she laughed a little. She had felt children in the womb kick before, in past friends who married off and settled down years ago, but never did one touch cause such a reaction; it made her so… happy. Hermione laughed along with her, and soon they were giggling and gasping softly at the movements.

"Quite playful, isn't he?" Minerva asked quietly, mesmerized by the feeling under her palms. Had it always felt this good to feel another woman's unborn child?

Hermione nodded a little, the smile on her face seemed permanently imprinted. "Yeah," she said with a dreamy sigh.

When the two met eyes again, there was something that surged within them. Their hearts fluttered, their faces turned a little red and their hands had met over Hermione's belly. The baby had calmed, most likely was napping now, but the two had been shaken. They had shared this milestone in Hermione's pregnancy, and both knew they probably enjoyed it a little more than they should have. But in this moment, this point in time neither cared. They stared into each other's eyes, searching discreetly and being blocked by clouds and barriers, but neither willing to look away. Only when the silence had became too comfortable, bordering on the intimate did they speak, and wondered what the other was thinking of.

After an hour passed, Hermione and Minerva were seated on the loveseat in the warmth of the sunlight shimmering down from the window. They had spoken of everything and nothing, whatever subject they could think of. They wanted to keep the other talking; they were drugged on the sound of each other's voice, the feel of friendly touches and small chuckles and giggles at comments made.

"Minerva?" Hermione was inching ever so slightly closer to her oblivious professor, who was in the middle of a speech.

"Yes, dear?" Minerva didn't even seem annoyed she had been interrupted. Hermione shyly moved Minerva's arm, the older woman was a little surprised when she snuggled into her side and moved the arm back down around her. Hermione rested her head on Minerva's chest, and sighed contently. When she felt the older woman stiffen, she snuggled deeper, and willed the older woman to just let her stay in her arms. After a moment or so, Hermione sighed softly in relief when she felt the other arm wrap around her and hold her.

Minerva didn't want to question, why would she? She was benefiting, satisfied an urge she had ever since she had gotten to feel the baby kick. But, she was concerned, Hermione seemed to be desperate for contact, if she so much as shifted Hermione's grip on her arms tightened and she tensed. "Hermione, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, just, could you hold me?" Hermione asked softly, just like the first time she asked in the Hospital Wing. Minerva gave the same reaction and simply held her.

Late one night after dinner, Hermione let out a low groan from her spot on the floor near the fireplace. Minerva looked up from her book and to her guest. "Are you alright?"

"My back and shoulders are killing me," Hermione moaned, reaching her shoulder and trying to work out the tension. Minerva sat up and moved over to her pained student.

"Do you want a massage, dear?" Minerva asked with a smile. Hermione turned to her slightly and smiled a little shyly.

"It's not too much trouble?"

"Of course not," Minerva hid the victorious grin and settled behind her. It had been a little over three days since she last gotten the excuse to hold or touch Hermione. Which in itself wasn't bad, but it did leave a little hint of longing within her fingertips. Minerva gently took her hands to Hermione's back, and drawing from past experience began to work the stiff muscles.

Hermione's eyes fluttered closed, she felt her sore, stiff body relax under her teacher's nimble hands. She focused on the sensations as the hands worked up, god, this felt good. She read once in a book that massage was often used in foreplay to build up pleasure, though she didn't understand the big deal when her ex-boyfriend had tried it on her. But now with Minerva it made so much sense, she was trying hard not to moan. Her hands were gripping the pillow in her lap tightly, dangerously close to ripping the thing in half. Minerva didn't seem to notice.

Minerva worked her hands along the back of Hermione's neck, feeling the knots slowly vanish from underneath the skin with pride. It had been a while since she had given a massage and she was pleased she hadn't made things worse. In the glare of the window, she could see her student's face and her hands momentarily paused at the sight. Hermione's eyes were closed, her hands clutching the pillow in what looked like pure ecstasy, her lips slightly parted. It was beautiful and sexy, and Minerva couldn't stop staring as she continued again. Her hands worked with a passion, wanting to make Hermione feel the very best that a witch of her skill could offer. She shuddered when she heard a soft moan escape those lips she longed for so desperately. To control herself she turned her eyes away from the sight and moved her hands to the younger woman's shoulders.

"Better?" Minerva asked in a low, soft voice. Hermione moaned again, a little louder and she blushed.

"Yes," Hermione breathed, "Much better."

Minerva continued until she felt every knot and every care melt from Hermione's body, and she did her best not to give in to her own selfish arousal at the younger woman's relief. It wasn't right, or appropriate or even fair, this young woman couldn't possibly have any idea what her moans and sigh of content would do to her mentor! Minerva gave a frustrated breath, it was just a little massage, why couldn't she just keep a clear head? _Because you're in love with her, _was the answer.

Minerva stopped when Hermione started to lean back into. No, she wouldn't be able to control herself if Hermione was pressed against her now. She moved back, and removed her hands. "Does your body still hurt?" she knew the answer already.

"No, I feel a-good." Hermione blushed, she had almost said amazing. "No pain at all. Thank you so much, Minerva you're a real life saver." Hermione sighed heavily, trying to ignore the painful throbbing in between her thighs. With a little effort she got to her feet and looked down at Minerva. "I'm going to head up to bed now, goodnight." And she quickly left, if she didn't do something to soothe the feeling soon she thought she might burst.

Minerva sat on the floor, a frown on her face at her guest's quick and abrupt exit. Had she said something wrong?

The next day came and Hermione was all smiles. Minerva was already awake by the time the dizzily happy Hermione came downstairs to the kitchen. She looked up from the newspaper and smiled. "Good morning, Hermione. Sleep well?" she asked the last part a little carefully, it had probably been her imagination but she was almost sure she had heard the girl moaning when she had passed by the door.

"Heavenly," Hermione said with a dreamy tone and she sat down in the chair and rubbed her belly a little. Minerva smiled and her worries left, whatever Hermione had been doing was better left out of her mind for the time being, she couldn't take time away from precious quality time with her favorite pupil and guest. "What's for breakfast?"

"Depends on what you're craving my dear," Minerva said with a big grin. Hermione blushed a little and giggled, then pretended to think even though her mind had been made up since she had opened her eyes.

"Ginger Newts, bacon, scrambled eggs with pickles and sour cream sounds good." Minerva made a face which made Hermione pout then laugh.

* * *

Authors note: Sorry it took so long guys, I'm trying to piece everything together and a lot of stuff has been going on with my life, not to go into detail or anything but I'm going to be a little longer with updates. This was is just really supposed to be fluffy, so here is the fluffy!


	14. Chapter 12

It wasn't easy for the two after that, Hermione continued to get back aches, and Minerva continued to massage them away, and Hermione continued to shake the very last bit of willpower in Minerva's body with her soft moans and sighs. How did such a little sound make the world seem to melt around her? It didn't matter.

Minerva worked her hands up and down Hermione's back in a soothing, bold manner. Hermione rolled her head back and sighed in pleasure, and Minerva closed her eyes and tried to focus. Hermione's mind drifted, lost in the sensations, unknowing of how difficult it was for her mentor to grant her. Minerva's fingers brushed over Hermione's pulse point, and paused, she could feel how fast her heart was pounding.

"Hermione, are you alright?"

"What?" Hermione's eyes fluttered opened, as if slowly awaking from a dream. "Why did you stop?" she was breathless, and Minerva had to take her hands fully away. It was too close to uncharted, morally-fatal territory. Hermione groaned in frustration, her head rolled back, and she could smell the lavender of Hermione's shampoo.

"Hermione, are you alright?" It was the only thing she could say, and for a moment all was quiet. Hermione straightened up, rubbed her newly relieved neck and smiled.

"I'm fine, thank you, I feel much better now—excuse me." Hermione quickly got up and left. And Minerva was felt with a throbbing in between her legs and a little ache in her chest.

**...**

This was getting ridiculous; she couldn't control herself when Minerva's fingers were working into her flesh. It was like those fingertips overflowed with magic when they touched her skin. She shivered at the thought. She hurried up to the library to calm down, and sat down in her newly favorite chair.

"I have to stop." Hermione said with a sigh, she put her head in her hand. "I can't feel this way; it'll only cause problems." Her body sagged against the back of the chair, and she sighed heavily. What was she going to do? The back pain was too intense for her to refuse the massages, but she couldn't trust herself to silence her moans of content. Just as she was about to mull over the problem, she gave a sharp gasp and put a hand on her stomach, the baby kicked. Her face broke into a silly smile, for some reason she always loved when the baby kicked—even if truthfully it was uncomfortable. She rubbed her belly a little, and looked at the large lump of a stomach.

"Hello in there, how are you doing today? I haven't felt you move in a while." a kick was the response. "Have a nice nap?" she felt the baby shift. "No? Oh, I'm sorry." she felt the baby shift again so a pressure was against the side. "What's the matter with me? Oh," she sighed and stroked her belly. "I'm just trying to sort through some things—nothing for you to worry about." She felt the baby kick and she laughed. "Alright, but it's a secret. Promise you won't tell?" she smiled a little, sad and happy all at once. "I'm in love, in love with a woman, my Professor."

She didn't notice two big black eyes watching from the door.

**...**

He knew this new guest was a little funny, she had always looked oddly at his Mistress when Mistress had her back turned, or wasn't paying attention—he also knew that his Mistress had feelings to this new guest, almost the same look when the new guest's back was turned. They loved each other. He saw it. It was clear, so why didn't they?

He walked off in the halls, wobbling a little on his stick legs and big belly. It He walked off in the halls, wobbling a little on his stick legs and big belly. It was obvious, for sure. Perhaps he would take the initiative and ask his Mistress, to over step the boundaries. After all, he just wanted to see his Mistress happy. He wobbled over to his Mistress's study and went to knock, but a whispering voice interrupted him.

"I can't continue to feel this, I can't. By Merlin she's a student—I'm her Professor, I'm supposed to keep her protected. She's so vulnerable now—strong but vulnerable, she feels alone and I'm taking advantage of it." He looked into the room and saw his Mistress looking into her pensieve, a wand at the ready by her head as if to add another memory. But, she was hesitating. "What's wrong with me?" she spat, but took the memory of her choice out and placed it in the pensieve. He watched as his Mistress slumped in a chair and put a hand on her face, as if in shame. Did his Mistress truly believe that being near her soul-mate was such a bad thing?

He watched intently, and made his way into the room when his Mistress started to cry. He snapped his fingers, but instead of a large cake, a simple tissue appeared. His Mistress was startled, then took the tissue and looked at him.

"Oh, Toad, what are you doing here?" his Mistress asked.

"Toad came to speak with Mistress and found Mistress weeping." He said.

"I'm fine, really." his Mistress sniffled and dabbed her eyes, before smiling a faint, fake smile. "What did you need to speak to me about?"

"Toad wants to know why new guest and Mistress seem to be at odds with one another." he said, motioning two bony, small fingers together then apart to show his meaning. His Mistress seemed surprised, and looked at him with misted, confused eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"Mistress and New Guest have much tension between them. Toad came after hearing New Guest was saying to her baby a secret, and Mistress weeping from something."

"Why were you listening to Hermione?"

"New Guest speaks rather loudly—it's not possible not to hear." his Mistress smiled a little and settled in her chair, and sniffled a little. He tilted his head a bit, his large ears going up in curiosity of the topic. "Toad heard New Guest tell baby she was in love." his Mistress stiffened considerably, and her eyes flashed with jealousy and sadness.

"I don't want you to eavesdrop anymore, Toad. It's rude." his Mistress said, although she seemed curious after the jealousy had been pushed back into her darkest corners of her mind. He smiled a little, and scuffed his shoeless foot on the floor.

"Forgive Toad, Mistress."

"I do," his Mistress was so kind to him. He truly wanted her happy.

"Toad heard New Guest say it was…"

"No," his Mistress shook her head. He frowned. Surly she would want to know? "It's not our place to know. Otherwise it would not be a secret. I don't want you eavesdropping anymore, understood?"

He nodded sadly, and his Mistress turned and looked into her pensieve. He watched her for a solid minute before wobbling out. It was almost time for lunch and he knew the new guest would want it ready. His Mistress just continued to stare into the pensieve. He didn't notice the tears slipping from her eyes.

**...**

So, Hermione was in love? She shouldn't be surprised. She shouldn't be angry or sad. It was wonderful. Love was a wonderful thing, or so she heard and imagined. Not for her, though. Now she knew without a doubt she had no chance—even if she had indulged in the thought once or twice, she had no chance. Even though she knew this she couldn't stop the jealous anger come, and the tears fall from her eyes.

Who did Hermione love? Who was this boy that had stolen her heart away?

Minerva shook her head and wiped away her tears with the already wet hankie. She had told herself she needed to stop feeling this way, what better push then knowing Hermione was already pining for someone?

But, this reasoning didn't help her at all. It didn't make her feel better, it made her feel worse then she had in a long while. It was getting closer to lunch. She should go get her student. Minerva left the room and headed down to the library, she was about to knock when she heard her student's voice. She inwardly smiled. He was right, she was rather loud. One couldn't help but hear.

_"I could never tell. I mean, I'm her student, she'd be appalled."_ Minerva stopped herself from knocking and listened in confusion and curiosity. What would who be appalled of?

_"I'm just a knocked up teen in Minerva's eyes. Her young, foolish knocked up teenage friend." _

_'No Hermione. You're so much more precious to me, more than you'll ever know.'_ Minerva thought but continued to listen.

_"Oh, maybe that was a little harsh—I mean I know she cares about me; she's letting me stay in her house for the summer for Merlin's sake. She's letting me make myself at home. And, well, to be honest with you I've never felt more at home in my life. I've never felt more safe and vulnerable all at once." _

Minerva couldn't help the small smile on her face. She was glad Hermione understood she cared.

_"She really is wonderful." _

There was a pause and Minerva held her breath.

_"Why am I telling you all this? Well, I have no one else to talk to about it, now do I?"_

_You could talk to me, if you wanted, _Minerva thought with a little frown.

_"I just… I wish I could tell her how much I love her." _

Minerva's heart leapt in her chest, had she just heard that right? There was a shifting of fabric, Hermione was standing up. Minerva backed away from the door. When the door didn't open she closed in on it again. The voice of her student had softened, and pressed her ear against the wood to hear the muffled voice.

_"I dream about it so often. I walk up to her, and tell her to her face; 'Minerva, I love you.'"_

Minerva felt faint. By Merlin, was _this_ a dream? This was too good to be true, it had to be a dream. Minerva went to pinch herself when she heard her student continue.

_"I have a whole speech ready, so she wouldn't be able to second guess my feelings."_

Minerva listened, that's all she found herself capable of doing.

_'I've been in love with you since third year. I can't stop thinking about you. You make my heart skip a beat when you're near me. When you hug me I feel my head go hazy, and I can barely think of anything besides the feel of you arms around me or the heat of your body. I love watching you, I love hearing your voice—almost everything about you is enough to drive me crazy.'"_

Minerva didn't know whether to laugh or cry in relief. Her hand pressed firmly against her rapidly beating heart, and leaned heavily against the door. Her knees were going weak. She could hear Hermione pacing.

_"Maybe I would just show her how I felt by giving her a kiss." _

The very idea made Minerva's face break out in a bright blush and a burning lust settle in her abdomen. She couldn't take it. She took a breath and she opened the door. Hermione spun about at the action. The younger woman looked at her. She was white as a ghost.

**...**

_Oh Merlin, oh god, did she hear all that? _Hermione was horrified. Her heart was going a million miles a second. She gave a shuddering gasp when Minerva breezed into the room and to her side. She was trembling. Was Minerva going to throw her out? Was she going to...?

"Hermione, are you alright, dear?" Minerva sounded concerned, and she put a hand on her arm. She hung her head low, not willing to look into emerald orbs.

"D-did you hear anything?" she bit her lip in worry.

"I heard enough." Minerva said softly and put a hand on the small of her back, making her shiver a little. She felt the older witch maneuver her to the love seat and sat her down. The ebony haired woman took a small breath and sat with her. She felt a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I'm not angry."

"You're not?" Hermione looked up in small amazement. Minerva smiled her usual faint smile, but there was a hint of sadness in her eyes.

"Of course not dear, it's normal for girls your age—"

"I meant every word." She blurted and Minerva seemed taken aback the interruption. Minerva stayed quiet, as if urging her to continue. She took a shaking breath and sat up straight and looked at her Professor. "I _am_ in love with you. I have been for a while, since third year."

"Hermione," Minerva began but Hermione stopped her.

"Wait, please, before you tell me how childish this whole thing is; I want to say that I may be young but I am not a child." Hermione said. "And this isn't just some crush." she saw how Minerva's mouth hung slightly open and she faltered in her strength and fiddled with her hands and looked into her lap. "I'll understand if you kick me out."

"Hermione, I would never do that."

"Y-you don't hate me?"

"Never!" Minerva put a hand on her cheek, "I could never hate you, Hermione." Hermione closed her eyes and leaned into the touch. She sobbed lightly, she couldn't stop the tears from falling—she was so relieved that Minerva didn't hate her for her feelings. She felt Minerva wipe her tears away and brush her hair behind her ears. "Please don't cry." but she only cried harder, Minerva was feeling pity for her, and that's not what she wanted. She wanted Minerva to love her back—or even like her back. Not pity, not pathetic pity.

**...**

Minerva didn't know what to do, Hermione was crying so hard she thought the young woman might choke. She wrapped her in a hug and rocked her gently. She put her lips to her student's ear and whispered soothing words. "It's alright. Don't cry, don't cry. You're okay. I'm not mad, shh, shh, shh. Calm down, dear."

Hermione took a deep breath in and finally the tears stopped. Minerva held her back at arm length and wiped that beautiful face dry, smiling a faint smile. Hermione looked up at her, and she felt her breath hitch discretely in her throat. They held the gaze for what felt like an eternity—or maybe an instant—and she closed her eyes to calm herself.

She was thinking of how to handle the situation, but all thought and reality faded when she felt a light touch on her cheek. A kiss, Hermione was kissing her. Her eyes fluttered open just to close again in pleasure, their lips met in a gentle kiss. They broke apart after a moment and she opened her eyes. Hermione was looking at her, teeth worrying her bottom lip in nervousness. It was adorable. She smiled, and her hand went to brunette hair, tangled into the locks, and gently drawing the student closer. Hermione closed her eyes and she closed hers just as their lips met again in a much too long awaited kiss.

This must have been what bliss felt like.

* * *

Authors note: **Sorry it took so long guys, I'm trying to piece everything together and a lot of stuff has been going on with my life, not to go into detail or anything but I'm going to be a little longer with updates.**


	15. Chapter 13

Minerva steadied herself against the back of the chair. She was alone, why was she alone?

Oh yes, Hermione had pulled away, looking terrified and hyperventilating and ran out of the room. Damn, how was she going to calm the girl down?

Minerva stood up to her feet in an instant and rushed after her student, for forgiveness, for laughs, for understanding—she didn't know. Her emerald eyes caught the brunette just slipping out the door. Minerva could hear the pounding of the rain outside the house.

Hermione could catch a deathly cold, or flu or Merlin knows what else. She ran down the stairs, almost falling over the last few steps, and bolted to the door, opening it just as a crack of lightning lit up the sky.

She raced down the slope and called out, "Hermione! Hermione, where are you? Stop this foolishness and come inside!" she was growing frantic in her calls, panic causing her heart to race and her cries to grow to that of screams, against the heavy winds and pouring rain. Her robes were heavy with water, but that didn't stop her from running as fast as she could. Finally, amazed that her student could move so fast, she found the girl standing by a tree sobbing. She called out to her, but the girl merely sobbed harder. Minerva moved quickly to her side and took out her wand, an umbrella spurting out from the tip and opening over them. Hopefully the lightning would not choose to strike.

"Hermione come back inside. I won't touch you—but come inside out of the rain." she hadn't noticed how desperate her voice was, and she felt relieved when Hermione nodded. The two hurriedly traveled back up the wet grass and back into the Manor. Minerva dried the poor thing off, lit the fire and placed her student before it to warm her.

Hermione shivered and held herself. Minerva felt guilty and confused. Hermione had said she loved her, so why had she run when Minerva kissed her? Perhaps, after getting a taste she changed her mind. She sat down, careful not to sit too close as to scare her guest out into the rain again. They stayed in silence for a long few moments, it was almost painful. Hermione jumped a little and put her hands over her stomach.

**...**

The baby kicked its mother, telling her to '_stop being stupid!_' and Hermione had to sigh. She had been acting childishly, and truthfully she didn't know why. She had just been so overwhelmed with fear and bliss and so many other things—she had to get away—and outside seemed a good idea at the time. But, by the look of her Professor's face, she had made the older woman uncomfortable. Well, how would she feel if Minerva bolted after a kiss? Hermione sighed again and put her head in her hands.

"I'm sorry…"

"No need to apologize," Minerva's voice was soft, almost guilty and sad. Hermione shook her head and scooted closer to Minerva.

"No, I'm sorry. I just got so overwhelmed and I felt like the room was crashing around me. I have no idea why I just…" Hermione tried to piece together her feelings, and found they made the simplest picture. She was in love with Minerva, Minerva had returned her kiss, and the feeling from such a kiss was more than she had ever imagined. She gave Minerva a small peck, which seemed to surprise the older woman. "Would you forgive my childishness?"

"Of course, but don't run off into a storm like that again—I won't hesitate to turn you into a paperweight." But there was a small shimmer in emerald eyes that softened their threat. She felt a hand slip up to her neck, and she shivered gently as slim fingers caressed the flesh.

Her brown eyes stared deeply into emerald, looking for something, for reflection of her feelings. She was a bit more than surprised when she found it. The baby moved again, and she breathed in sharply. She closed her eyes, and a smile formed on her face when she felt the hand move from her neck, then two hands hesitantly slip onto her stomach.

Perhaps it was the subtle awe of an unborn child, perhaps it was because they wanted nothing more, but they relaxed by the fire and cuddled, hands gently rubbing over a growing stomach with a rowdy child moving about within it. Two beady black eyes watched from the doorway of the kitchen with a smile.

Lunch could wait.

**...**

Minerva didn't speak, and she was sure Hermione didn't want to. This little scene was much too perfect to be broken by words or reality, and neither cared to do so. The fire in front of them crackled and burned in a warm, enchanting wave and spark. The baby kicked one last time before seemingly calming down in his mother's tummy. She chuckled and leaned onto her forearm, her other hand gently moving away from the lump of a stomach. For a moment they were quiet, it didn't feel as awkward as they would have thought.

"He's finally resting."

"Yeah," Hermione said with a little smile, and the fire reflected against her watery eyes. "He's making it hard for me." In that moment all was quiet. Minerva knew what Hermione was talking about. She slid back onto her side and gently put her hand on Hermione's disappearing waist.

"You've decided."

"Yes. I mean… I think it's for the best… but it's so hard… I don't know. One day I say I'll look for adoption agencies and the next I feel the baby and I say I'll keep him." Hermione shook her head. "I can't be selfish. I have to think about the baby, right?"

Minerva nodded, though Hermione couldn't see her. She trailed her hand over her friend's stomach and back, wondering of the torment her young student must have been going through, wondering what the younger woman would do in the end, and how she would feel about her decision when all was said and done.

She closed her eyes and took a breath. A part of her was thankful she never had children.

**...**

The rain was still pouring when the two women managed to get up and into the kitchen. Toad had kept the food warm and had the foresight to leave the room, knowing the lengthy discussion that would be followed by the food.

Minerva pulled out a chair and Hermione sat down, smiling softly up in thanks. The older witch smiled a little back and then sat in the chair next to her. They ate in silence, the looming questions and decisions that needed to be made caused the air to become thick with tension.

What would happen after summer? Would they pretend nothing happened? Would they go on with whatever this was? Was it too early to think of it?

When they had finished Hermione took a breath to ready herself for the upcoming talk. Minerva thought for a moment, thinking of how she would put this delicately—or if she wanted to put it delicately.

"Hermione," she began, and Hermione's brown eyes slowly drifted to her, showing that she was listening. "I think we have to talk about this." The other woman nodded. "You do understand that Professor-student relationships are—"

"Forbidden," Hermione finished softly, and Minerva continued.

"Yes. And besides that, you're sixteen and I'm..." Minerva sighed and looked at her empty plate. "Well I'm…"

"Seventy-five,"

Minerva almost winced at the voiced number. Why did it always sound so cruel when someone else said it? "That's a sixty year age difference."

"Can I say you don't look seventy-five?" Hermione had a smile on her face, no doubt caused by Minerva's girlish blush.

"Thank you, but you're too kind." Minerva attempted to slip back into her firm voice but failed, her voice was soft and almost fragile. "I'm old enough to be your great grandmother."

"Minerva," Hermione placed her hand over her mentor's and smiled softly. "Age doesn't matter to me, and I understand that people will think this is wrong, but I don't care. I love you."

"But _do_ you? Can you honestly say that you are without a doubt, one-hundred percent sure want to be with me, even after graduation and after you move on?" Minerva looked at her with a gaze mixed with fear, love, sadness and hope, and she was met with a reflection of love.

"Yes, I can." Hermione said and leaned forward, kissing Minerva's cheek. "Can you?"

"Yes," Minerva whispered. Oh, she didn't even need to think about it, she'd be with Hermione as long as the younger woman would have her. But, again, she needed to think with a clear head. She moved back a bit, away from Hermione's lips. "This can be considered a crime, Hermione, you're underage."

"I know." Hermione said softly.

"I refuse to take advantage of you." Minerva said. Hermione shook her head and gently stroked Minerva's arm, her brown eyes never leaving emerald ones.

"You're not taking advantage of me. I'm the one who kissed you." Hermione spoke with a soft voice, her hand squeezing her mentor's hand gently. "And besides, the law in Wizarding terms classifies the act of a pedophilic relationship between a senior and a junior engaging in sexual intercourse. So, really, as long as we don't have sex they can't do anything."

"My dear, as true as that is, people say and do as they will. Your reputation-"

"It's not mine you should be worried about it's yours."

"Hermione, do you really think I care about my reputation?" Minerva smiled a faint smile. "I'm old. I've lived the best years of my life already. But you, you're so young, mature beyond your years, but so young. There are many things you haven't done yet." Hermione made to speak but Minerva put a finger over her lips. "If anyone knew about us, even if we were not legally doing wrong and I was not charged with a crime, it could affect your chances accomplishing all you want. Hermione, dear, I am not trying to persuade or scare you into choosing, I do not care what happens to me. I am concerned about you, and I am just telling you the facts."

Hermione kissed the finger placed at her lips and smiled at her Professor's blush. "I don't mind. I still want to be with you, and if it means I have to settle for being secretive and hiding our feelings from the public for a few more years, I'm willing to do it. I know it'll be hard, and I know things will be horrible before they get better, but I can handle it—I want to try."

"Hermione…" Minerva couldn't believe her student had just told her all that, her heart was pounding and she felt a little light headed. Dear Merlin, don't let this be a dream.

Hermione held Minerva's hand and brought it to her own pounding chest. "What do you say? Do you want to try?"

"No second thoughts?"

"None at all, Minerva, I think we can make this work. Minerva, I really do. Please, can we at least try?" Hermione looked at her, with such frail hope, Minerva melted. The older witch thought for a moment and then slowly nodded.

"Yes."

Hermione pulled her into a deep kiss, and she wrapped her strong arms around her love. A feeling of pure bliss and relief washed over them in a wave, and they held tightly onto each other, almost afraid that this would be a dream if they let go. They kissed, they caressed, and whispered words not meant for anyone else's ears but their own.

**...**

"How long did you know?"

"Hmm?"

Minerva was lounged on the couch, Hermione's back pressed against her front and the bush haired woman's head rested on her chest. The older witch glanced down from her book and to her student. It had been three days since their confessions, and they hadn't really talked about it since, it was almost as if they had known they loved each other for years, and perhaps they had.

"How long ago did you first know you loved me?"

Minerva marked her page and placed the book on the small pile of books by the couch then wrapped her strong arms about the young woman, who murmured in content and waited for an answer.

"My feelings for you have grown from the moment I first time I saw you, at first, I saw you as a brilliant young student. You were so mature beyond your years, later, you challenged me intellectually, and I found your company pleasant, I knew that even with our age difference we were good friends, and I was happy for that. I believe I first knew without a doubt that I was in love with you, was your fifth year.

"During that year, hiding and fighting against Voldemort and the strain of your family, I started to notice little things about you I had never seen before. I found myself attracted and worried about you more so than a Professor ought to with a student. I began to see you as a woman and not just a mature young lady." Minerva held Hermione close and thought of those dreadful years. Hermione sensed the change and gently caressed her Professor's arms. "And you, I know you said third year—"

"Second year," Minerva raised an eyebrow in question and Hermione laughed. "I admit I thought it was a crush at first, after all who doesn't get a crush on a teacher at least once? But, my feelings never went away—even after I dated Ron and Vic—"

"Don't you dare say that name."

"Aww, were you jealous?" Hermione asked, grinning at Minerva's light blush.

"I merely think that you could have done better then that barbarian. Did that man even know how to read?"

"Probably not, he just watched me study—it was kind of creepy." Hermione said and made a small face at the memory.

"Oh, so you think it's creepy when I watch you?" Minerva said teasingly.

"No, I think it's comforting." Hermione replied and sealed it with a small kiss to the woman's hand. Minerva gave her such a big smile, she felt like she had won the world and all the books in it.

**...**

* * *

Authors note: **Here you are. Sorry this is kind of rushed. Mostly just fluff at the end. Hopefully more soon-probably a large load of angst coming our way so be warned.  
**


	16. Chapter 14

Hermione and Minerva had gotten to talk about the usual topic of Magic and Theories and they began to learn even more about the other's past as well. It was a perfect balance, beliefs and past personal experience with spells mixed with hypothesis of different magic and enchantments. Somewhere along the lines they had gotten onto the topic of Glamour Charms.

"I wanted to use a Glamour Charm on myself after I started to show, but Madame Pomfrey forbade it. I never got around to asking why, from what I read most Glamour Charms are harmless." Hermione said.

"I think she is just being extra cautious. After all, you used Parasite Killing spells and charms on yourself at the start of your pregnancy. Even the simplest spell could affect the baby in an adverse way." Minerva explained. Hermione rested against the love-seat's plush back and sipped her tea.

A familiar shriek rang through the library, and the two women looked out the window to see a flutter of feathers gliding into the room.

"A little late for mail, isn't it?" Hermione asked. Minerva gave the bushed owl a treat before opening the letter. Minerva put on her glasses and read the parchment. Hermione leaned over to peek at the letter which Minerva playfully pulled out of her eyesight. Hermione put down her teacup and snuggled into Minerva's side. The ebony haired woman wrapped an arm around the brunette as she finished the letter and set it down. "Who was it from?"

"Molly and Arthur," Minerva said, "they asked if I could gather you up and drop by to discuss matters concerning the child and your schooling."

"Do they want me expelled?" Hermione asked, with a small frown.

"Of course not—they're offering to pay for your schooling supplies next semester." Minerva smiled at Hermione's shocked expression. "Molly finally calmed down."

"Ah," Hermione picked up her tea again and took a big gulp. She was not in the slightest hurry to meet with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley to discuss matters. She knew that they wouldn't want her to give the baby up—and she knew that she couldn't very well take care of it on her own and she didn't want to be forced into marriage.

"Hermione," Minerva spoke in a soothing voice, obviously sensing her love's nervousness. "We're all mature adults and we will discuss this matter as such. There is nothing for you to worry about." and Hermione nodded, only slightly calmed by Minerva's speech.

* * *

The next day, Minerva and Hermione apperated to the Burrow. It was about mid-day and Ginny, Ron and Harry were out in the garden. It looked like they were running after some nasty little gnomes. Minerva headed inside while Hermione waited until her three friends noticed her.

Ginny was the first one to notice her. "Hermione!" the red head cried and hurried over to her. Harry and Ron immediately followed after hearing the name.

After being bombarded by hugs, they all sat down on the porch. Ron and Harry sat on either side of Hermione while Ginny was busy putting her ear on the rather large tummy of the mother-to-be.

"How have you been feeling Hermione?" asked Ron.

"I've been alright." Hermione said with a little smile and shrug. "What about you all?"

"It's been horrible! All summer Mum's been a terror!" Ron said, "It was just two days ago she finally calmed down and we were able to have some fun."

"Speak for yourself-I've had a great time." Ginny said with a giggle and a grin directed at a certain Boy-Who-Lived. Hermione smiled at the two, but Ron looked oblivious.

Probably for the best though, Hermione thought.

"We didn't know where you were until Mr. Weasley got the reply from Professor McGonagall." Harry said. "All of the Owls we sent you during the summer came back. We were a little worried."

"I'm sorry," Hermione said with a small frown. "Well I was wondering why you hadn't sent me anything, I guess now I know. But why did the Owls come back? They always find the receiver."

"Dad says that it's because McGonagall manor has a protective spell around it; supposedly the only owls that can find it are the Ministry and ones that have an acceptance charm on them." Ron said with a shrug. "Or something like that."

Hermione thought about asking Minerva about that later. Right now, she wanted to focus on catching up with her friends. "So, what else has happened?"

And all thoughts of Hermione's stay at the Manor were forgotten as Ron, Harry and Ginny all told them about what had happened during their summer vacation.

* * *

AN: Really really short chapter, but better than nothing, right? Anyway, I hope you enjoy. Due to some... things going on in my life I don't know if I can continue this anytime soon.


	17. Chapter 15

**AUTHORS NOTE: **So sorry it's taken so much time. The thing blocking me from writing has passed, and I might grace you all with more frequent updates if my work schedule allows.

I'm so rusty I'm almost embarrassed for posting this, but I hope that some of you still enjoy it.

Oh, and this whole part with Bill I made up, so don't yell if it's not canon.

* * *

...

"It's getting rather nasty outside." Molly said as she closed the window. "The children should be heading in soon."

"Let them catch up, dear." Arthur said while sitting at the table with Professor McGonagall. "It's almost the end of summer and they haven't spoken once. What about you, Minerva? How have you been this summer?"

"I've been quite well, Arthur." Minerva said with a smile. "Hermione has been pleasant company."

"Yes Hermione, how is she?" Molly asked as she brought a tray of tea over to the table. She handed Minerva and Arthur their cups before sitting and taking her own.

"She's been well. I've made sure of that." Minerva said and forced down a blush. Molly and Arthur did not notice, and she thanked Merlin for that. Now it was time to get to business, and she flicked her wand and a long sheet of paper appeared. It was to make a list of what was needed and what would be taken care of. She was just about to start the discussion, when Arthur interrupted her.

"Do you know who the father is?" asked Arthur. Minerva was taken aback by this, but she recovered quickly.

"Yes," said Minerva, "But I believe that it's the obligation of Miss Granger to tell you."

"Minerva…" said Molly in a soft voice, unlike anything the Witch had heard before.

"Don't worry Molly, she'll tell you." Minerva put a hand on her friend's shoulder. Molly just nodded and gave a great sigh. Minerva took her hand back and sighed only slightly before continuing. "Now, about her tuition, you said you wanted to pay for it—are you sure about that?"

"Of course," said Molly, "I may have been angry before, but I still have a heart."

"What she means is, what with young Hermione's parents gone, we feel it's the least we can do," said Arthur while wrapping an arm around his troubled wife's shoulders.

"We could give her a scholarship from the Ministry; goodness knows she's eligible." Minerva said, already knowing the girls miraculous grades and thinking of several good scholarships that would fit the girl perfectly.

"I suppose," said Arthur with a slight nod.

"But we still want to help in some way," said Molly quickly, before Arthur could say anything contrary, "and with the baby. She's not giving it away, is she?" Minerva said nothing, and Molly stood up from her seat in a rage. "She can't do that. That's my grandchild either way, lord knows I'm more of a mother than anything Harry's got!"

"Dear—" Arthur tried to calm his wife down, "It's still her decision, and you know that."

"But… Arthur!" cried Molly.

"Please." Arthur held his wife's hand, and she looked desperately from him, to Minerva and back again. She looked so helpless and torn, it almost made Minerva feel a bit of guilt at defending Hermione's position, almost.

"You will have to talk to Miss Granger about this." Minerva said. Molly made to say something, but she stopped as she heard an all-too-familiar clomping of shoes.

"Mummy, Dad, we finished getting all the gnomes out of the garden." Ginny said as she opened the door and walked in, with Harry and Ron, and Hermione in tow.

Molly turned and looked at Hermione. The girl seemed like a frightened rabbit, and Molly felt a pang of guilt for being so furious with the child in earlier weeks.

"Hermione, dear, you look well. Why don't you come and sit down? Come on, then." Molly led the pregnant girl to a chair and sat her down. The boys made to sit on either side, but Molly looked at her husband, who then quickly led the boys off to "help fix the car" before entering a few minutes later.

"Ginny, dear, why don't you go and show Professor McGonagall her room?" Molly suggested. Ginny looked at her friend who looked back, white as a ghost. The fiery-redhead mouthed an apology before she got up and started off. As Minerva left, she squeezed Hermione's shoulder in a comforting gesture, carefully disguised as a teacher's concern, but clearly registered as a lover's touch.

_I love you._

And then she was gone, and Hermione was left alone in the room with Arthur and Molly—the holders of her doom.

...

Ginny silently walked up the stairs with her professor following behind. She didn't know what to say to the woman, and she didn't really know if Hermione had finally confessed her feelings or not. But it was bugging her, and eating her up, and the more the thought about it, the more awkward she felt with Professor McGonagall so close.

But when she turned when she reached the door, and saw her professor lost in her own world, she wondered if Hermione was on her thoughts like she was on hers.

"Professor?" said Ginny, "Here's your room."

"Oh, thank you Miss Weasley," said Professor McGonagall as she stepped into the room. "Where will Miss Granger be, if I might ask?"

"I'm pretty sure she'll be sleeping with me." Ginny said, slightly confused the brief glare her professor gave her, though maybe it was just a trick of her mind.

"I see. I'll bring her bags, then."

"It's alright I can get them when they arrive." Ginny said. "I'll let you get settled in." it was stupid, Minerva had nothing with her to get settled in with, but she quickly left and hurried downstairs.

…

Hermione fiddled with her thumbs as silence filled the room, the tension was so think you could cut it with a knife. How had she gotten herself into this situation? Oh, right, she had gotten so drunk she ended up sleeping with their son.

"I didn't mean for all of this to happen." Hermione finally whispered. "But I accept responsibility for what happened, and we're here. And there's nothing I can do now, short of spending years upon years trying to find a strong enough spell to reverse all this."

The two adults said nothing, and Hermione felt rebuffed. What could she do now, what did they want? She raised her eyes, and saw that both Mr. Weasley and his wife had sad, sympathetic looks upon their faces.

"We're not mad, well, we were but we aren't now." Arthur said, casting a look to who wife, who only made a soft nod in response.

"We're disappointed. This isn't the best of situations, dear, we all know that." Molly said with a sigh. "Merlin knows I didn't think I'd become a grandmother in this fashion—but what happened, happened, and no amount of magic can change it, and we want you to know we're here for you."

Hermione felt tears come to her eyes, but Molly just continued as she stood from her seat and came to her side. She sat on the edge of the chair, and pulled Hermione into a comforting hug. "It's alright dear, it's alright."

"I'm so scared." Hermione whispered in between sobs. "I have people who love me, and care about me, but I'm still scared."

"Oh, dear, it's alright to feel scared. You know something, when I was pregnant I was scared too." Hermione sniffled, and Molly nodded. "Yes, I was, in all of them really, but none so much as when I was pregnant with Bill. Arthur and I eloped, you know, we had no family to start out with. Mad as hell, they were. I thought that they would hate me for sure, getting pregnant when there was a war going on, and at the time Arthur was off helping in the front lines."

Hermione turned her face upward and listened as Molly told her story.

"I was all by myself. I had no family, I had no friends—I barely had a home. This old place was burned to the ground by death eaters and I barely managed to get out alive. I lived in an old abandoned shack out in the forest for a good while. I never dared to even make a small amount of light for myself during the night I was so scared. That was the only time I tried my very best not to use magic, and it was the worst time of my life. But, then, when I had lost all hope, something came to my door. I armed myself with my wand and lifted myself off the floor—heavily pregnant at this time, mind you—and I sent out—what curse was it?"

"Cruciatus,"

"Ah, yes, and well—you could imagine my terror when I saw poor Arthur here and Minerva writhing on the floor in pain."

"What?" Hermione's eyes were wide. "You cursed Min—Professor McGonagall?" she almost didn't care about the slip and she was about to pull away when Molly smiled.

"Well I didn't know it was them, I just knew four things. One, I was all by myself in the middle of a war. Two, I had to protect my son, and three; I heard more than two sets of footsteps, which usually meant Death Eaters. Oh, and four, I was petrified." Molly said. "So I cast as many Cruciatus curses as I could in a breath; which was two."

"Who were the others?" Hermione asked.

"Let me see, Albus, Hagrid and I can't quite remember who else. Lucky they were there, though, they were the only ones who snapped me out of my stupor in time to stop the curse before serious harm was done." Molly smiled a bit, and Arthur only grinned.

"You sure did pack quite a punch, my dear." He said.

Hermione found it odd, and a bit extraordinary that someone could forgive anyone who used an Unforgivable curse on them, but she supposed that love went beyond all logic and understanding. That and it was true that if Mrs. Weasley had known who it was, she would have never cast it.

"And even after that, I was scared. I was scared almost constantly throughout my pregnancy—with each pregnancy that followed, too, with friends or without friends. Mothers are always scared, even when they know what to expect. You think, "how can I do this, how can I bring someone into this world, how can I love them the way they ought to be loved?" The point being, Hermione, you're going to be scared, for one reason or another even if you're not alone. We can help, and comfort, but the fear won't go." Molly waited for Hermione to give a small hum of acknowledgement before continuing. "Just know we're here. If you need something, anything, we'll be here. We'll help you through this."

Hermione listened to the plump, middle-aged woman's heartbeat, and she realized how she had missed listening to the sound of a mother's heart, how soothing it was.

"Now, dear, there is a matter we need to discuss. You aren't giving the baby away, are you?" asked Molly.

"Dear—"

"Hush Arthur, I'm only asking."

"I… I know this will sound bad to you," Hermione said, suddenly afraid of being torn away by this comfort, "but I can't… I mean, I can't go on with school and try to get a job after graduation while taking care of a baby."

There was silence, but Molly did not rip Hermione away from the safe resting place of her bosom, and she rocked the girl back and forth gently.

"We could care for it," said Molly softly. Hermione stiffened, but she could not bring herself to move from her spot.

"Molly," Arthur began but Hermione shook her head.

"No, Mr. Weasley, it's fine. But, Mrs. Weasley I couldn't force that on you." Hermione said.

"You're not, I'm offering—no—I'm demanding you let us raise the baby. I can't bear for my grandchild to grow up in one of those awful orphanages-or complete strangers." Molly said, holding Hermione away at arms-length. Hermione knew that Molly wanted her to look her in the eyes. "Hermione, dear, _please._ If you can't handle raising it, fine, let us—just until you are."

Hermione looked at Molly, and Molly looked at her. It was an offer—a demand—and Hermione didn't know what to do.

She didn't notice as a certain someone listened to their talk from the doorway.

"The father," Hermione suddenly said. "Did you want to know?"

Arthur looked at his wife, who looked back at him. They conversed silently, but Hermione knew they would say yes. She prepared herself the best she could, and breathed the name of the father of the child in her womb, so softly that one might have thought it was scarcely a name at all.

"It's…"


	18. Chapter 16

**AUTHORS NOTE: **I have time to write, and this is what I came up with. Enjoy-and don't kill me. What Hermione did will be explained in a later chapter but I think its obvious.

* * *

"It's Ron's."

There was a loud thump, and Molly, Arthur and Hermione snapped their attention to the now unconscious body of Ronald Weasley, who fainted upon the mention of his name. Hermione bit her lip, and then the tears came as Arthur hurried over to his boy and shook him up.

"Dear Merlin," Molly breathed as Hermione held onto her tightly and began to cry. She was going to be a grandmother, and although she thought she had already settled with the revelation, for some reason the fact that it was said out loud hit her like a double decker bus. But enough of that, she couldn't very well be off in her own little world while her son was conked out and the newest addition to their family was balling her eyes out. So once things settled down, Molly and Arthur let the two of them have some time alone while they went off into the upstairs for some privacy.

"Well, it looks like Hermione has calmed down a bit," Molly commented softly as she closed the door to the guest room where they had decided Hermione would be staying. She pulled out some sheets and blankets as Arthur looked on. True, she could have used her wand, but that would have made things go by much too fast, and she needed something to keep her occupied, "Poor girl."

"I never thought Ron would give us our first grandchild." Arthur said softly and sat down. Molly looked over to him with a little frown.

"Of course you didn't. None of us did." She beat the blankets and sneezed as the dirt kicked up. When was the last time she used these blankets?

"I suppose we should get ready for those long sleepless nights," Arthur smiled slightly, and Molly glared at him, but softened as she thought about the upcoming duties. She was feeling a bit lonely from the nest being so empty. Having a little baby around the house would be just the ticket to cure her little depression right up, "Midnight feedings, colic…teething."

Molly's smile grew wider and wider as she thought of it. She knew she wouldn't be quite so cheery about it once the time came, but it had been so long since she had gotten to take care of a little baby, to see a child rush down the stairs for breakfast every day, to kiss a scraped knee and hold a sniffling child after a nightmare.

It would be refreshing to have another little Weasley baby running about the house.

"How are we going to deal with Hermione though?" Arthur asked, rubbing his temple. His eyes were squeezed shut, and Molly could see the distress of the situation. Molly smiled, crossed the room to where he sat, and kissed the top of his head.

"We get our Ronald and Hermione married, as soon as possible," said Molly with an air of obviousness.

"Do you think they'll actually agree to that?" Arthur looked at his wife, unconvinced.

"Oh, we'll keep Hermione here the rest of vacation and make sure she and Ron spend as much together as possible. You know how teenagers are, dear, they'll fall in love just like that." Molly snapped her fingers, and smiled brightly. "We just have to ease them into it."

…

Hermione and Ron sat next to each other, and facing away from the other. It was terribly awkward to be alone after such a long time. Neither knew what to say to the other, or what to think, or what to do… so they didn't make any attempt to cut through the suffocating silence between them.

…

Harry watched the two from the stairway. He knew that he shouldn't interfere with the situation, but yet he couldn't bring himself to let his friends sulk in self-pity. He knew from past experience that silence like this usually lead to very heated arguments. Which would have been fine, but with Hermione pregnant, he couldn't help but worry for the baby's welfare—it couldn't be good for it to be under such stress.

He recalled one of Hermione's long monologues about some book she had read; in it, she had described a spell used in otherwise heated debates between countries that resulted in a calming effect. Wait… had there been something about "love spells" in that long tedious recap? Possible, though unfortunately he couldn't remember if love spells were related to the one mentioned.

Harry saw Hermione's frown deepen as Ron moved a little closer. He could see the dark clouds of a deadly storm beginning to form.

No time to think about it now; he took out his wand and focused all his energy on casting the calming spell on his two friends. He couldn't risk Hermione or the baby getting hurt.

Just as he remembered the words, something startled him.

"Harry!" hissed Ginny.

Harry jumped and quickly stuffed his wand in his sleeve. He turned to look at Ginny.

"I was just—" Harry fumbled over his words. Ginny just sighed and shook her head.

"If I can't be down here, neither can you…. Besides…" Ginny whispered, grabbing Harry's arm, "…they're just going to talk like they always do."

_And that's what I'm afraid of, _Harry thought grimly, looking back briefly at the two as his girlfriend dragged him up the stairs.

However, unbeknownst to him, the ancient spell had been cast, and was already working its magic on the two teenagers.

…

_"Come on, Ron, say something,"_ Ron's mind scolded. He gulped and glanced sideways at Hermione. The light from the fireplace highlighted her brown curls and soft face, and Ron couldn't help but feeling warm. She looked so cute. "So… it's really mine?"

"Madam Pomfrey said she's 85% certain that the baby is yours, yes," said Hermione with a little toss of her hair, which had fallen gracefully in front of her face. "She was also 65% certain it's a girl, but it was too soon to tell."

"I bet she'll be really pretty, just like you." Ron said. He didn't know what had possessed him to say it, but when Hermione blushed and smiled, he was glad he did.

"Thanks, Ron… that's really nice of you to say." Hermione brushed a lock of hair behind her ear and glanced up at him with her chocolate brown eyes. "Accounting for the probable strength of Weasley genes, however, I have to say she'll most likely take more after you."

"My hair, maybe, but she'll definitely have your looks." Ron said, unable to be persuaded otherwise. Hermione smiled and giggled, and Ron blushed slightly as she fell into his side. "I want her to have your smile." He felt as Hermione upturned her head against his chest to stare at him.

"My teeth were horrible when I was little."

"Yeah, but your smile is beautiful now, isn't it?" He saw Hermione blush again and lower her head to stare at his lap. He had no idea where these great lines were coming from, but he was positively glowing with pride that he came up with them.

The more he and Hermione talked, the more she warmed up to him. It was the first time in months that they had an easy conversation—and the first time ever Hermione flirted back, and didn't degrade him for flirting with her in the first place. She even let him hold her, and put his hands on her stomach. He could feel the baby kicking wildly, and he had felt something strange bubble up in him. It felt like pride and joy and something else, all mashed up together. He couldn't control himself. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against hers.

"Ron…" Hermione's tone was soft and trembling, and it sent shivers of delight run down his spine. He heard a loud gasp and he turned just in time to see a blur of emerald vanish up the stairs. He turned back to Hermione who was looking back towards the stairs. She looked worried, and he took her chin in his grasp and turned her head back to him.

He leaned forward, kissed her softly, and Hermione kissed him back.

…

That night, Hermione climbed up the stairs, her thoughts filled with turmoil and confusion. One moment she was sad, angry and scared, and the next she felt warm, and calm, and had seen a completely new side of Ron she had never noticed before. He smelled so good, he was so kind, and he made her heart flutter in her chest.

It almost felt like… she was falling in love with him. No, no that couldn't be it. She was in love with Minerva—she was sure… and yet she felt some powerful, almost painful jab in her head, telling her that it wasn't true, and she was falling for Ron.

Oh God, she kissed Ron—she kissed him! The worst part was it felt so sensual and soft—she had enjoyed it.

She betrayed Minerva. How could she do that?

She sobbed and leaned against the wall. She had betrayed Minerva, and she was sure Minerva had seen her. How could she explain this sudden feeling? How could she allow herself to feel it in the first place?

What was wrong with her?

She heard rustling and the sound of footsteps pacing the room. She turned around and saw the door to the guest room. It was Minerva. She could feel it. Without a single thought, she opened the door and walked in. The professor of transfiguration was packing her things back into her suitcase.

Minerva had dried tearstains down her cheeks, but all she wore now was a hard, cold expression. The older witch stood stiffly and stared at her with a hard glare. She stared back with tears. When Minerva had seen her tears, her expression softened, but only slightly.

"What are you doing?"

"I believe that my presence here is no longer needed, Miss Granger. You seem to have settled in well enough."

"Don't—"

"You'll be fine, you have Mister Weasley to keep you company now."

"That's not it." Everything was spinning and she leaned heavily against she closed door. Minerva closed her eyes, and sat down on the bed.

"Tell me he didn't make you feel anything when he kissed you. Tell me you didn't kiss him back." Emerald green eyes opened and stared right through her.

Hermione held her head and pushed off the door, stumbling further into the room. She grasped onto a night table where Minerva had placed her wand, and she rested her forehead against it.

"Tell me," Minerva demanded. The older witch's voice was both harsh and pleading at the same time.

But Hermione said nothing.

The young witch could feel the disappointment and sorrow radiating off her lover. When she turned her head, she could see unshed tears threatening to come to the surface. Minerva then turned her head away quickly, and gripped her robes tightly.

"I see…"

"I'm not… I don't…" She couldn't form a straight thought. Her newly found desire for Ron clashed with her long held love for Minerva. The two feelings clashed violently, fighting each other with such force it made her dizzy. She swayed on her feet, and she heard the blankets shifting as Minerva stood. "You don't…"

"Miss Granger, I understand what happened between us was only—" Minerva's voice was hard, but it carried a hint of concern and worry. It infuriated her.

"NO!" She screamed and spun around, pointing accusingly at the older witch. "You _don't_ understand. You don't understand _anything!_ I LOVE YOU!"

Minerva was stiff, but she couldn't see why—she was far too angry.

She swung her arms wildly. She couldn't even understand what she screamed and went on about next; she was in too much pain, and too much distress.

All that was clear was that she hated feeling this way; hated how all these lies poisoned her heart and her head, daring to try to manipulate her into feeling differently.

She needed to kill the lies.

Everything after that was a blur. All she remembered doing after that was waving her hand and pointing something at herself. Vaguely she registered Minerva screaming for her to stop something, and the sound people bursting in. There was a spell, flashes of green and then blue lit up the room, followed by intense pain in her stomach. Then there was a metallic taste in her mouth, and the feeling of someone holding her close, the smell of ginger and parchment… green eyes filled with tears.

_I love you… Merlin, I love you… I'm doing this for your own good…_

And then everything went black.


	19. Chapter 17

AUTHORS NOTE: Sorry for waiting so long, well, here it is :)

* * *

After the incident, Minerva had carried Hermione into bed. After one last longing look, she went back to the hall, and proceeded to interrogate both boys about Hermione's sudden suicidal behavior.

Harry admitted trying to use a spell to keep his friends calm, as to not bring harm to the baby, but hadn't known it had actually been cast.

When he mentioned what spell he used, Minerva was enraged, for its origins were in fact from a love-spell—and a powerful one at that—used ages ago. In order to keep from striking the boy, she verbally abused him for casting a spell he knew nothing about...

During which time Ron interrupted, saying he was worried about his 'precious Mionewobbles.'

Before she had the chance to wring the red-haired boy's neck, however, Harry had quickly grabbed and dragged him off.

Minerva had to confess about her and Hermione's previous relationship to Molly while she dabbed Hermione's head with a damp towel to calm her fever down. If they used any more magic on her, it was possible she would miscarry.

She remembered every single detail of their conversation.

_"Minerva… I…" __Molly was shocked, and Minerva smiled sadly._

_"It's alright, Molly." __She had said and stroked Hermione's brown curls. "I don't know how to undo Potter's spell, so I undid the only thing I could…"_

_"You don't mean…" Molly's eyes were wide._

_"Yes… I erased everything leading to and after our relationship, and I replaced them with fictional memories of your son."__ Minerva closed her eyes. She hadn't wanted to see the horrified look Molly was sure to have. "Without me, she'll be able to love Ronald fully. She will only remember me as her headmistress and professor, and nothing more."_

_"Minerva you can't just…"_

_"Molly, you saw it. The spells influence and her love for me were attacking each other; it drove her mad. You saw, Molly! She tried to kill herself!"__ Minerva had taken her hand away from Hermione's face, and with a heavy heart and determined mind, she turned away. "I can't risk it happening again."_

_"But what about you?"__ asked Molly. Minerva stood up from her seat. It took an incredible amount of will not to look back at Hermione. "How are you going to go through this?"_

_Minerva started to walk away but paused briefly to think about the question. "I'll keep my distance until it fades." Molly stood from her seat and quickly moved beside her._

_"HA! Even the fabled McGonagall restraint won't help you with that, and you know it."__ Molly's glare had softened, and she had put a hand on Minerva's shoulder. "I worry how this will affect you. I admit I'm not exactly thrilled about the idea of you two as a couple, but, I accept yours and Hermione's judgment. You know she wouldn't want this. Isn't there something else we could do?"_

_"My decision is final, Molly."__ Minerva had looked at Molly, and all the sorrow she felt shone through. She could tell by the other woman's expression. "It has to be this way. I can't risk her trying to harm herself. Please don't tell her when she awakes… she wouldn't believe it anyway." _

And she had left the Burrow, and had since never returned.

…

Now, she sat silently in her office at Hogwarts. Summer was over and all the students were bustling about the castle, and much to her annoyance, it seemed this was the perfect year for relationships.

Everywhere she turned, she saw young couples whispering and giggling in ignorant bliss. Among these were Potter and Miss Weasley, who had officially become a couple. Weasley and Hermione were getting along quite nicely, and there were rumors were going about the two finally dating, the two spending more time together than ever before. Everyone was happy and filled with joy. Freshly budding romance coupled with the sweet aroma of innocence seemed to rush through the air as the flowers of love burst into bloom.

She had never felt so utterly repulsed, depressed and lonely in her entire life, as terribly dramatic and preposterous as it sounded.

Molly had been right, of course. Her fabled McGonagall will did not help much when it came to holding back longing glances, crushing down fierce hatred, and absolving hot jealous envy when it came right down to dealing with Hermione and Weasley. She had become less and less inclined to join the Gryffindors for anything other than what was absolutely necessary. She would sit at her place at the head table, she would give out homework, she would answer questions, but she did not go to the Quidditch matches or any other of the extracurricular activities as she had done in past years.

Previous, she had been considering hiring a new Transfiguration teacher to lessen her piling workload. Now, with the classes turning utterly painful when Hermione insisted, as always, to sit at the utmost front of the class, where of course Weasley was sure to follow like a lovesick pup, it seemed that now was the perfect time. After engrossing herself in hundreds of applications, she found one Elmira Clove to be the most logical (though in her personal opinion slightly under experienced) prospect for the job.

The interview was pleasant enough. She came in black and purple robes—not too flashy, not too desperate, unlike most of the prospects that landed an interview—her hair was tied back properly in a long braid that fell at her waist. She didn't wear too much makeup, nor did she have on heels that made her three feet taller.

In fact, Elmira reminded her of someone she used to know a long time ago… herself.

Wasn't it odd how it felt as though she didn't have a "self" anymore?

There was a knock on her office door, but her eyes didn't leave the parchment in front of her. She spoke with an uninterested, "Yes?"

The portrait opened, she turned her eyes up to see Elmira, standing quietly in the archway with her arms held loosely behind her at attention. She had to give the new professor credit; she didn't look nervous at all, but feline instincts told Minerva otherwise. It was a special gift to have such a strong poker face, usually only gained from years of experience. It seemed as though the new professor was going to have a good advantage over the students.

_Well, let us see how she holds up with a class of six years…_

* * *

Ron and his girlfriend, Hermione walked down the halls of the school. Hermione's eyes were covered by a red scarf, and Ron lead her carefully along.

Everything in the world was bright and beautiful. He couldn't remember a time when he was happier. He was with the girl of his dreams, who was carrying his baby, and if all went well, they'd be together for a long time. Oh he knew about Hermione's plans to put the child up for adoption, but that just didn't sit well with him.

And with that in mind, he didn't want their baby boy born into a family where he would always have a fear of his parents splitting up, even though, of course, he and Hermione would be together forever, since they loved each other so much.

"Ron," Hermione giggled, "When can I take this silly scarf off?"

"Just a moment my little pumpkinpoo," Ron cooed as he slyly led Hermione to the room of requirement. He had it all planned out, and just as he had hoped, it had stayed according to his needs earlier that morning. "Alright, here we are."

Hermione opened her eyes once Ron had removed the scarf and gasped in delight. There in the center of the room, a romantic place setting of a dozen enchanted roses in an elegant glass vase, a small table for two, and a single candle in the center.

"Come sit, 'Mione." Ron purred. Hermione giggled and sat in the chair he pulled back for her.

"What's the occasion, Ron?" Hermione smiled sweetly.

"In time, my turtledove, in time," Ron said.

* * *

Minerva walked through the halls of Hogwarts castle, her mind on the upcoming audience with the inspector to renew the castle's teaching license. Her stride was elegant yet strong, unwavering. She had the aura of a powerful witch that no one could ever take down.

"Hey! Hey! Did you hear?"

She heard the excited, shocked outburst of one of the six years. At first, it did not perk her interest. She often heard similar outbursts throughout the week for different reasons, which were often for trivial, childish things that did not require such excitement.

"What?"

Turning the corner, she mentally went over the list of things to prepare before the upcoming inspection. Top of which was obviously the matter of making sure the anxious graduating seventh years were kept in line.

"Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger are getting hitched!"

Minerva stopped dead in her tracks. In that instant, her world turned gray.

"What? Are you serious?"

"I couldn't make something like this up! Ron and Hermione are totally _engaged."_

A shooting pain raced up her arm. Her heart felt like some mad animal was shredding it to pieces. She grasped wildly at her chest. Her vision blurred, her movements turned sluggish and ridged. Everything twisted and spun around her.

_Engaged… Hermione… my Hermione…_

Flashes of her nightmares came back at full force; visions of a beautiful white wedding, complete with a glowing bride, a handsome groom, and adorable baby bouncing happily in its grandmother's lap. A perfect happy ending for the couple, for Mr. and Mrs. Ronald Weasley.

"Professor?" a voice called to her, but she couldn't make out the student. Nothing around her seemed real anymore, but nothing around her felt like it was a dream. It was all a nightmare, a horrible, twisted nightmare she couldn't wake up from. The pain was excruciating. She couldn't breathe, when she gasped no noise escaped her throat. Her legs struggled to keep her upright, her mind raced wildly in its haze, trying to stay aware, trying to stay alive.

_Oh god..._

Green eyes rolled into the back of her head, and a loud, terrified scream pierced the darkening room. There was but one word that played on her lips before the darkness overtook her.

"…No…"


	20. Chapter 18

AUTHORS NOTE: This is a short follow up to the previous chapter. I don't know when the next chapter will be written up, though.

Oh! And when Madam Pomfrey is talking about Minerva having a weak heart, for those of you who have read the books, she seems to hold her chest quite often—especially in moments of surprise, so I figured I'd tie it in.

* * *

Hermione had gone through the day in a cheerful mood. She was engaged to the guy of her dreams, she, he, and Harry were all close friends again, her grades were soaring—as always—and she was sure that a bright and beautiful future was waiting for her just around the corner.

But still... in the back of her mind, far from her immediate thoughts, there was a certain… something. She didn't have a word for it. It was just something that jabbed her mind every now and again when she wasn't thinking about Ron. A certain something she couldn't place, forgotten, like a dream from a long time ago.

_Ah well, it must not be important,_ she would reason with herself—though honestly it didn't make her feel any better about it.

Hermione fixed her bag, which was filled to the brim with books as she turned a down a corridor, heading for her next class. The sight that greeted her was more than a bit unsettling. Professor McGonagall was standing stiffly to the side of the hallway.

She had a sudden ache in her chest when she saw her professor, but assumed that it was just heartburn. She was just about to move along when she noticed Professor McGonagall had grasped her chest, and how pale the older woman looked.

''Professor?" she asked worriedly, walking towards her. She had never seen Professor McGonagall look so weak before. She felt panic rush through her as the older woman gasped for air, but no sound came from her throat. "P-professor! Are you alright?"

But that question was answered in the most horrible way possible. The professor's eyes rolled into the back of her head, and Hermione screamed as the older witch fell to the ground with a sickening thump, unconscious and unmoving.

"SOMEONE HELP!" Hermione shrieked in horror, forgetting all about her large stomach and getting to her knees as quickly as possible to check on Professor McGonagall's pulse. There was nothing.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god," she whispered brokenly, her eyes watering and overflowing with tears from a pain in her heart she couldn't explain. She reached wildly to her robes for her wand, but remembered she had accidently left it in her last class. "No, no, no, no, no—HELP!"

Students had fled in all directions, each desperate to find a professor nearby. But Hermione didn't see any of that, all she could do was feebly try and bring Minerva back to life, by doing the only thing she could think of; CPR. Among the confusion, one of the muggleborn students had quickly stepped in to do the compressions while Hermione did the breathing.

It felt like years before a professor had arrived. Hermione was in a daze now. She didn't think about Ron, or the baby, or anything other than Minerva's welfare. She didn't even notice that somehow, somewhere, she had stopped thinking of McGonagall as a professor, and now held her as someone close to her heart.

"Is she going to be okay?" Hermione asked desperately as three of the professors gathered around Minerva. She was in too much of a haze to recognize whoever they were.

"She's fine—please, Miss Granger, go to your class."

"NO!" Hermione fought against the hands that had suddenly appeared around her arms. "No, let go of me!"

"Miss Granger, please, calm down!"

But she did not calm down, not even when she felt immense pain rip through her stomach, or when Madam Pomfrey came and begged her to, not when three professors had to try and physically restrain her for fear of injuring the baby. Not for anything. Not until Minerva had been successfully taken to the hospital wing, and she was lying in a bed next to hers.

"Can't believe you," muttered an annoyed Madam Pomfrey as she made sure the infant inside Hermione's stomach was safe. "Putting yourself through all that stress—could have—foolish girl—I never—"

"What happened to the Professor?" Hermione asked softly, her eyes not once coming leaving the sleeping witch.

"She's always had a rather weak heart when it came right down to it, dear." Madam Pomfrey said, "And she's not exactly young anymore, is she? Yes, I think it's the stress gaining up on her, the poor foolish thing. She desperately needs a vacation, but does she listen to me? No."

Hermione stopped listening as Madam Pomfrey began ranting. She was too engrossed in watching Minerva rest.

Finally after awhile, Madam Pomfrey finished up her work and glanced at Hermione. "I'm surprised to say the least, but your baby is just fine, dear. But _no more stress._ Understand?"

Hermione gave a half nod, not really paying attention to the nurse's words. Her eyes were locked onto the sleeping professor. She looked so… troubled, so sad. It was truly heart wrenching to witness the once strong Minerva McGonagall reduced to a lump of a body on a hospital bed.

And yet, it felt somehow… intimate, like this was a part of Minerva that she would never allow anyone else to see. And for some reason, this thought made her smile, and feel a sort of pride deep within her heart that soothed some of the ache in her heart that had come when she first saw Minerva faint.

For some reason she could not explain, just being near Professor McGonagall, it made her feel, calm, comforted…

Maybe even something she couldn't quite place, something that confused her…

Love.


	21. Chapter 19

**AUTHORS NOTE: **This is the shortest Chapter of this story, but seeing as I haven't posted in a long time, I thought this would be better than nothing.

I hope you've enjoyed this story, and thank you to every one of my readers and reviewers.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall awoke to a dull aching throb in her chest and wondering what on earth she was doing laying down.

_"Wasn't I just about to go to my office?"_ she thought, blinking rapidly. _"Why is my vision so blurry?"_

She attempted to sit up, to which her efforts were met with a searing pain from her head. With a sharp grunt she gingerly lowered herself back down onto the bed.

_"Good God, I feel as though someone's slammed my head into a brick wall."_ She thought, tenderly lifting up her right arm to place over her eyes.

"Minerva, I see you're awake." A voice said with a hint of annoyance and what appeared to be relief. Minerva lifted her arm just enough to peer at who was speaking. It was Madam Pomfrey. "You gave us quite a scare, you despicable old woman." The nurse walked over to her bedside and took her wrist. She was quiet for a moment, then when she was done, she let go of the wrist, looked down, and smacked her right over the head.

"MERLIN!" Minerva shouted, grasping her throbbing head. "What was that for?"

"For not coming to me sooner. I could have saved us both the hassle of your heart attack."

The words 'heart attack' stunned Minerva only momentarily, because all the memories leading up to her frightening, and admittedly embarrassing, fainting spell in the middle of a busy corridor in between classes came back.

Hermione was engaged to Ronald Weasley.

And it was her fault.

"You're very lucky you had your attack when there were a lot of people out and about, otherwise you might not have made it." Madam Pomfrey said, looking through a cabinet for some potion or another. "But this is the last straw, I'm officially giving you orders to stay in bed. No more paperwork, no more grading, no more _stress._"

Minerva was too weak to argue.

When Madam Pomfrey left the wing to get a potion from the lab, Minerva curled up on her bed, closed her eyes, and trembled as hot pain seared in her throat and burned her eyes.

She would never be with Hermione. She would never hold her, or kiss her. She would never say I love you.

Hermione would never love her.

And for the first time, she realized just how horrible a fate she had created for herself.

* * *

~...~


	22. Chapter 20

AUTHORS NOTE: Oh my god...I am SOOOOO Sorry guys! I wrote this like a day after the last chapter and for some reason thought I had put it up.

Well, here you go.

* * *

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione quickly turned her head from the window to the blackboard, she blushed a soft tint of red as the new transfiguration teacher looked at her expectantly. Those eyes pierced her in such a familiar way, a small tingle went through her fingertips and down her spine.

"I'm sorry—what was the question?" Hermione asked, surprising everyone in the class. The know-it-all not paying attention?

Professor Clove was about to speak when the chimes sounded for the end of the class, a new addition to the classroom from the ministry. Surprisingly enough, the students remained seated. Professor Clove leaned slightly against her desk and looked over each student with a stern look, but grinned.

"I expect each and every one of you to turn in your papers by Wednesday. You're dismissed."

The students quickly gathered their things and were quickly bolting out of the classroom. Ron helped Hermione out of her chair and carried her books, but just as they turned Professor Clove called after them.

"Miss Granger? I word, if you please." The professor motioned with a single finger for the sixth year to come back. Ron looked at Hermione nervously, but she gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. Ron went outside with his and Hermione's books while the young witch walked over to her new professor's desk. "Miss Granger, are my lessons boring?" her eyebrow arched and Hermione blushed brightly.

"No—No of course not Professor." Hermione said, feeling embarrassed and somewhat shy. "I—I just—"

Professor Clove looked at her with piercing emerald eyes behind square spectacles again. Those eyes… Hermione's breath hitched and she backed up a bit. Unfortunately, she hadn't noticed the transfigured stool from the day's class. With a loud squeak, she went down and squeezed her eyes shut, preparing to hit the stone floor.

"Merlin, girl, are you alright?" She heard Professor Clove ask. Hermione slowly opened her eyes, realizing the teacher had caught her before she fell. Hermione couldn't breathe. Professor Clove looked so familiar…and yet…not. For some reason those emerald eyes made her breath hitch and her heart pound. Why had she never noticed this before, and what did it mean?

"Professor—" a voice stopped mid sentence. Hermione's attention snapped to the doorway where a shocked looking Professor McGonagall stood.

Professor Clove cleared her throat as she straightened Hermione up, with a small frown on her face, "We'll talk later Miss Granger, I do hope you'll pay more attention to my class tomorrow." she said.

Hermione nodded dumbly and turned away, but as she was about to take a step, green eyes flashed and she froze solid.

Hermione could plainly see hot rage radiating within the emerald green eyes of her Headmistress. The look didn't frighten her, in fact, it sent a surge of lightning through her body and she trembled. The rage turned to sadness, and then worry. But there was something else in those eyes. Something that made the room spin.

This feeling... those eyes...so familiar, like she had known them.

Like she had... loved this?

No, that couldn't be. McGonagall was a teacher, respected, strong, beautiful...

Wait what?

A painful shock pierced her brain, and she doubled over in pain. A scream escaped from her lips.

Thunder rumbling through a darkened manor. Lighting tearing through the sky. Rain soaking her to the bone...

A loving embrace beside a fireplace. A passionate kiss.

Feeling her heart splitting into two. A blinding green light.

_I love you… Merlin, I love you… I'm doing this for your own good…_

"Minerva," Hermione gasped out in a broken whisper.

Her body felt as if it was sinking, she could feel heavy chains shrinking around her chest and her heart being slowly crushed. Tears blurred her vision to the point of blindness. She reached out her hands, desperate not to be left alone in the abyss which held her without mercy, which pulled her down, down, deep into the classroom floor. She heard the Scottish witch gasp, and felt a terrible pain in her stomach, but she was too scared. She was too far gone.

"No," Hermione sobbed brokenly. She couldn't breathe, she grasped at the chains, clawing and twisting and bashing her fists against them. They were too heavy. She couldn't see, everything was too faded, shapes lost their meaning, colors lost their luster. She closed her eyes tightly. "Don't..."

And she collapsed, the chains too heavy to break, her body too tired to fight, her mind too lost to save. The void sucked her in further, and through the haze, she felt ice cold air hit her, and her body went numb. She wasn't in pain anymore. She didn't feel the chains anymore. She couldn't feel the uncertainties or confusion or anything.

Nothing.

It felt, somehow, nice.

Maybe the void wasn't so bad. Maybe she needn't had struggled so hard to be free. She could just sink, vanish from existence, be free.

..._Mione!_

What was that?

_Good god girl wake up!_

Someone talking?

_Please Hermione, Merlin, Please!_

Leave me alone.

_I love you._

Through the haze she felt something warm and wet on her face. Her eyes opened, and the face above her shined through the blurred black and white reality around her. That face, so strong, so beautiful, looked marred by the tears that streamed down it.

Hermione shuddered in the sudden warmth, and she reached up to caress the angel. But her hand felt heavy, and it moved as if she reached through a sea of tar. She tried to move, she tried to speak, but the face moved away, the blurry state of the world grew more intense.

No...no...no...

Don't...

Don't...

Don't...

Don't...

The face began to vanish, and with her last breath, Hermione pushed with all her might, and clawed after the image. Her fingertips scratched the edge of a cheek.

"DON'T LEAVE ME!"

The chains shattered, blood splattered on the ground.

The world turned black.


	23. Chapter 21

A panicking Ron ran into the hospital wing at top speed, closely followed by a worried Harry and a concerned Ginny.

"Mione! Where's Mione? I want to see Mione!" Ron yelled at the top of his lungs, Hermione's precious books long forgotten on the floor in a heap. He saw Madam Pomfrey, Professor McGonagall and Professor Clove around one of the beds. He could hear his dearest's labored breathing. "Hermione!"

The instant Ron opened his mouth, he felt a rush of pain shoot through his cheek and saw his Headmistress standing in front of him. The normally cool, strict Professor McGonagall had just backhanded him in unbridled rage.

One minute he was standing in shock, nursing a red cheek, the next he was clear across the room in what was left of several curtains and bed frames he had just been thrown through.

"Why weren't you enough?" the furious Scottish woman was next to him now, grabbing his collar and with a surprising strength lifting him up against the wall. "You were meant to keep her safe! You were supposed to keep her from _remembering!_"

_Remembering what?_ Ron thought dumbly as the Headmistress squeezed her claws around his throat, effectively stalling any questions he might have happened to voice.

"Minerva!" Madam Pomfrey hadn't moved from Hermione's side, but Ron could see as she raised a wand towards them. He could see the shock on her face.

"…Minerva."

Ron gasped for air when McGonagall dropped him. He quickly looked up to see his beloved turtledove, Hermione, looking at them.

Before he could adorn her with the declarations of adoration she undoubtedly wanted, she said something...

"I need you, Minerva."

McGonagall was by Hermione's side in an instant, and when the Scottish woman bent down, his precious Hermione raised her hand, and caressed the old crone's face. She didn't once look at him.

He rose up slowly from the floor. There had to be some mistake. He had just heard her wrong, yes, that's it. She had meant to say she needed him. She was delirious from pain. She called McGonagall away from him to save her precious Ron. That's it. She loved him. She loved only him.

When Hermione sat up, and raised her beautiful head up, just when he expected her to call for him…

She kissed the old witch.

And he saw red.

* * *

And there's something to hold you guys over for awhile. Enjoy :D THE BABY'S COMING!


	24. Chapter 22

Hermione had awoken to an intense pain in her head. She hissed and screwed her eyes shut. Before she could open her eyes, she heard a furious voice.

"Why weren't you enough?" She slowly opened her eyes, just in time to see Minvera and Ron across the wing. The professor had the boy by the collar. "You were meant to keep her safe! You were supposed to keep her from remembering!"

She could vaguely see Harry and Ginny—but they were on the sidelines—both of them looked shocked at what was happening.

At first she couldn't understand what was happening—but then, it started coming back.

She recalled those intense conflicting emotions violating her, the feeling of being suffocated… The killing curse she had almost cast on herself. She remembered Minerva speaking softly to her, and then new memories forcing themselves into her head, and precious ones with Minerva being wiped away. Those months of false happiness with Ron.

She remembered all of it.

She opened her mouth, but couldn't speak. What should have been anger simply gave way to loneliness. Unbelievable loneliness. How had she managed being away from Minerva for so long? Even now as the older witch stood there in the same room, it felt like she was miles away. As Minerva raised Ron into the air by his throat, she found her voice.

"I need you... Minerva."

The witch was by her side in an instant. Hermione raised her hand. She needed to be sure that she was actually there, that it wasn't just another illusion. When her fingers met soft skin, the loneliness vanished and she sighed in relief. Minerva placed a hand over hers, looking down at her, tears quickly forming.

Hermione fought her pain and sat up, swatting away the cautious and worried hands of Professor Clove and Madam Pomfrey. She didn't have time for any of that.

Minerva took a shuddering breath, and Hermione could almost see the thousands of thoughts and questions and apologies whizzing about behind emerald eyes.

She raised her head, closed her eyes, and kissed her. If there was anything still forgotten, that kiss brought everything into the light. She was in love with Minerva, totally and completely, and in the back of her mind, she felt like a fool for ever letting anything ever make her question that.

She vaguely heard the gasps of the other two professors, but she didn't care. She wrapped her arms around Minerva's neck, and her heart fluttered happily when her beloved professor returned the kiss. When their lips parted, Minerva held her tightly against her.

"Hermione, I—" Minerva began.

"It's okay." Hermione whispered, kissing her once again, relishing the feel of her lover's body against her own after so long. "I just—"

"NO!" Ron's voice bellowed within the hospital wing and cut off Hermione.

Everything happened so fast after that…

"STOP!" Harry yelled.

"Ron what are you doing?" Ginny shrieked.

Then Minerva was ripped from her arms. Or was it the other way around? Either way she ended up flying through the air, and then suddenly stopping, with a new pain on her arm.

Hermione realized once the world slowed back down, that Minerva and the other professors were now on the opposite end of the hospital wing, all had their wands out at the ready. She felt the painful grip on her arm tighten, and she whipped her head around to see what was causing it. To her shock, her eyes met those of a positively furious Ron Weasley, and the tip of a wand pointed directly at her chest.

"How could you do this to me?" Ron demanded.

"You're hurting me!" Hermione winced as Ron only gripped her arm tighter. Hermione glared up at him, but she was instantly taken aback by the fury in his eyes. It wasn't the fact that he was angry that confused her, it was the type of anger. There was something off about it… something wasn't right.

It was then she realized that it wasn't natural feelings that had caused her to question her love for Minerva, so intense that she almost killed herself...and it wasn't simple jealousy making Ron go mental right now either.

"Ron—you need to calm down. You aren't yourse—"

"Shut up!" Ron spat. Hermione quickly did so... this was going to be harder to talk her way out of than she thought…

She heard the sound of quick footsteps—and for a second Ron's wand moved from her chest towards something. "_Stupefy_!"

She looked back just in time to see Harry shot back into a batch of hospital beds, and fall to the floor with a thump. Ginny then pointed her wand towards the two of them. The instant she did so, Ron moved Hermione, and Professor Clove grabbed Ginny's shoulder.

"No!" Professor Clove said quickly.

For a moment Hermione wondered why Clove would stop Ginny, but then she noticed how she was positioned. Ron held Hermione at an awkward angle—any spell cast and they might hit her instead of the raving lunatic… Hermione noted with some worriment that even the disarming spell _Expelliarmus_ would just send her flying backwards if Ron moved her just an inch in the second it would take to cast. She realized that no one would risk it—not with her pregnant belly reminding them of the second hostage.

"Ronald, let her go." Hermione glanced back towards the other end of the hospital wing. Minerva was inching closer.

Ron jabbed his wand into her chest so hard she gave a gasp of pain. Minerva stopped in her tracks.

"Ron—stop it—what's wrong with you?" Ginny exclaimed, shock and panic evident in her voice.

"Nobody moves. Nobody follows us." Ron seethed.

"Weasley—please…"Madam Pomfrey gently tried to reason with him. It didn't work.

"NOBODY MOVES!" Ron screamed. Minerva, Madam Pomfrey, Professor Clove and Ginny all stood silently.

Ginny looked like she was aching to send a curse her Brother's way and wanting desperately to help her best friend, and Minerva looked ready to rip him limb from limb, but no one risked moving.

Hermione's heart pounded in her ears as she felt herself being painfully forced out of the hospital wing. She could see the panic in Minerva's eyes as the doors shut. The second they did, Hermione felt a wave of nausea hit. There was absolutely no one around, though she thought she heard a few portraits gasp, she couldn't be sure—she didn't look up. She just followed as Ron dragged her along.

* * *

"I have to go after them right now!" Ginny yelled as Professor Clove held her back.

"No, I need you to get the other teachers." Professor Clove said calmly. "Poppy—"

"Potter's fine. He just got a bit of a bump on his head—nothing that can't wait." Madam Pomfrey had lugged the boy onto one of the hospital beds and briefly gave him a once over.

"But—UGH! Professor McGonagall—" Ginny quickly spun around, about to plead the Scottish Professor take her side, only to note that she had vanished quite completely. Once the confusion left, she had a sense of relief that Hermione was probably going to be alright… although now she was afraid for her brother's life… "…I'll get the other professors."

Ginny raced out from the Hospital Wing, just as Professor Clove and Madam Pomfrey hurried in the other direction, following the hurried steps of Ron and Hermione echoing off the walls.

* * *

Just as Hermione thought she was going to start panicking, she and Ron turned a corner and she could see a tabby quickly and silently stalking after them in the corner of her eye—the soft paws not making a sound on the stone. The brief sight was enough to calm her down, and she wanted to smile, but she was acutely aware that would be a bad idea.

So she obediently followed him for a few more feet…. However, a funny thing happens when you are being forced somewhere against your will—your senses become extremely heightened, and every detail of everything around becomes so much clearer.

She heard the padding of soft paws draw closer and faster. And just as Ron tried to pull her down a secret corridor, leading god knows where—almost as if the two had planned it—she stopped in her tracks and ducked.

When Ron spun around, he came face to face with a rocketing grey fur-ball from hell. Ron howled, inadvertently releasing Hermione as his hands raced to his face, trying to pry the cat off. Once freed, she quickly scrambled away from him. The Animagus professor and the mad wizard tumbled into the darkness of the secret passage.

Ron's pain filled screams echoed, as did the mad animalistic hisses from her professor.

"RWEOWwwwwI'm going to kill you, Weasley!" Minerva's anger resonated in the darkness as she transformed back to normal, with such fire in her voice that Hermione trembled. There was much shuffling and sounds of struggle, and numerous spells cast. Finally, there was a loud bang, and then silence.

Hermione fell back to the other wall, breathing heavily as the aching of her back and legs became more apparent now that the immediate fear for her safety was gone. She saw Madam Pomfrey and Professor Clove race around the corner, and within seconds, she heard the stampeding footsteps from all directions. Ginny must have alerted the other teachers and students. Or maybe the portraits. She couldn't tell which-but honestly she couldn't care at this point. A powerful pain shot through her, and she let out a loud cry. Madam Pomfrey and Professor Clove were quickly at her side, leading her off. She tried to stop them, but she felt another stab of pain.

"She's fine, Miss Granger!" Professor Clove said with an annoyed tone, pulling Hermione along by one arm.

"For goodness sakes stop fighting us, girl!" Madam Pomfrey said just as frustrated as Professor Clove did, as she pulled Hermione along by the other arm.

Hermione finally relented, and let them half carry, and half walk her back to the wing.

* * *

AUTHORS NOTE: Oh come on, you didn't expect Ron not to lose his lid after seeing that, did you?

Anyway, thank you to all the reviewers and readers who've continued to wait so patiently for a new chapter.

And a special shout-out to Refreshingly Original-without whom you'd probably would have waited another year before I managed to get another chapter of this up. And don't worry, that other one is being written up as we speak-er-as I type.

I'm not sure when I'll update this again, but I'll try to make it as fast as possible. Within a few months at most.


End file.
